


Tech Week

by LocallyGrownAvocado



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Alternate Universe - Theatre, And somehow Yuuri gets involved, I mean big surprise right?, M/M, Victor directs the school musical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-04-24 02:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14345829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LocallyGrownAvocado/pseuds/LocallyGrownAvocado
Summary: “You need your stage manager. And you need your stage manager to pass my class. Now, you could just let him come to tutoring like a normal club advisor, however, you seem convinced that him missing a fraction of your rehearsal would result in Armageddon. So I’m going to propose another option. Let me come to your rehearsal. When Mr. Plisetsky’s not working, we’ll talk math. When he is working, I’ll stay out of your way. Deal?”***Or, Victor is an exasperated drama teacher. Yuuri is a math teacher. And Tech Week is a bitch.





	1. Monday

Victor hadn’t even made it into the building and he already had at least seven problems to deal with before the bell rang at three pm. And from what Victor knew of math, though it was admittedly not much, that number was only going to grow logarithmically with every class period.

Was logarithmic growth the one that bigger and bigger until it flew off into the sky like Idina Menzel after act one of Wicked?

No, that was exponential, right?

Did it even matter?

It was the first day of tech week. Math terminology certainly did not matter at all. Math terminology would not find Victor a new makeup artist. Math terminology would not get his papers graded. Math terminology would only be a waste of time.

He googled it anyway.

It was exponential.

Damn.

Victor had called all of the remaining drama parents that morning. Three had said no. The rest hadn’t answered. That meant he had twelve more options before he was officially in trouble. After all, you’d think that at least one parent of twelve would be willing to come in and do makeup for a high school production, right?

Wrong.

Four parents had the decency to call back between first-period freshman English and seventh-period drama lit. Seven had texted him back. Jodie Marcus hadn’t responded yet, but at this point, Victor wasn’t even sure if she knew her kid was in the play.

Victor sorted through everything he needed for the night and made his way down to the auditorium. He told himself it would be fine- after all, it was only Monday and he could definitely find someone by the time Friday rolled around. They just wouldn’t run makeup today, they’d start tomorrow. If anything, it would give them more rehearsal time and heaven knew they needed it.

He didn’t even make it to the auditorium before a problem much bigger than a makeup artist decided to run into him.

That problem happened to be none other than Yuri Plisetsky, a green piece of paper in hand.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said as he handed over the paper. “I thought I had it under control.”

“What’s this?” Victor asked, though he already knew the answer.

“I don’t know, apparently I’m like almost failing math or something and we’re about to have a quiz and my dumb-ass math teacher decided to coerce me into tutoring so I don’t actually fail his course.”

“But you’re not failing yet.”

“No, weren’t you fucking listening?”

Victor sighed. “Who’s your math teacher? And what’s his room number?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Katsuki, 232. What, you going to fight him or something?”

“Or something. Look, go start rehearsal. We’re not doing makeup today, so just get the crew in costumes and start vocal warm-ups, run some pentascales. I’ll fix this.”

Victor handed Yuri his bag and his coffee and sprinted back towards the stairwell. He decided not to sprint up the actual stairwell, and instead spent the rest of the walk trying to figure out exactly what he was going to say when he actually got to room 232.

_Hello, my name is Victor Nikiforov, and well I understand your subject is important it’s not that important. I need my stage manager back._

_Hi, I’m Victor, I teach English and run the drama department and I’ve had enough caffeine today to kill a small cat. Fear me._

_My name is Victor Victor Nikiforov. You stole my stage manager. Prepare to die._

Apparently, the correct answer was D, none of the above. Room 232 was in fact empty. According to the room schedule taped to the window, the last class of the day had in fact been algebra two with Katsuki. However, said class had been sixth period. Katsuki could be anywhere.

Victor sighed and went off in search of an office. After all, most teachers posted their schedules in their office windows. If he could find Katsuki’s office, he’d find Katsuki’s schedule, and he’d, in turn, find Katsuki.

Turns out, Katsuki’s office was room 241. According to Katsuki’s schedule, his seventh period had been prep.

“Can I help you?”

Victor turned towards the source of the voice, which was a younger-than-expected Japanese man walking down the hallway.

“Mr. Katsuki?” Victor asked, earning a nod from the approaching math teacher.

“Have we met?”

“I don’t believe so,” Victor replied as the slightly attractive math teacher stopped outside his office door. “I’m Victor Nikiforov, I teach English upstairs.”

He pulled the green tutoring note out of his pocket and handed it to Katsuki. “This isn’t going to work.”

For a minute, Mr. Katsuki read over the note. Up close, Victor determined, he was more than just slightly attractive. However, he was still the enemy and Victor would not be swayed.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Mr. Nikiforov. He’s dangerously close to failing math. We have a test on Wednesday, and if he doesn’t score well, it’ll be incredibly hard for him to bring his grade up by the end of the semester. I don’t understand your objection.”

Victor sighed. “I run the drama department,” he explained. “We perform this weekend, this is our tech week. We’ve got long rehearsals, a lot of prep to be done. It’s intense. Yuri Plisetsky is one of my stage managers, his presence is really crucial to the success of our production.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Mr. Nikiforov. But I believe we have an academic integrity policy at this high school, meaning if Mr. Plisetsky fails math he becomes ineligible to participate in any extracurricular activities, which would, of course, include your musical.”

“You wouldn’t _dare_.”

Mr. Katsuki just raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t? I’m sorry, but I don’t exactly have a reason not to. I don’t know you. I don’t know your program. All I know is that Yuri Plisetsky needs to pass math, and it’s my responsibility to do my job as an educator.”

“Look, Mr. Katsuki,” Victor said, trying to sound as pleasant and reasonable as possible. “You’re a math teacher. You wouldn’t understand. The school board loves you because you raise our ACT scores. Nobody stands up in district meetings and proposes cutting your subject. You don’t have to fight to get funding, you don’t have to argue to keep your classes. If this play falls on its face, there will be cuts to my budget, and my budget is painfully small to begin with. So please for the love of exponents or whatever you math people worship just let me keep my stage manager.”

For a moment, Katsuki just stares. There’s a strange look in his eyes somewhere between confusion and consideration that Victor can’t quite read.

“How late do your rehearsals go tonight?”

“It’s the first night, probably nine thirty or ten. Why?”

“And Mr. Plisetsky will be constantly occupied for the entirety of your practice?”

“Well, no. But the breaks will be more random, spread out, depending on where we need multiple runs and when we actually stop for dinner. Best case scenario things all run perfectly and he doesn’t have much free time at all but with my luck at least three musical numbers will completely fall apart and if that happens-”

“Mr. Nikiforov, stop talking. I’m going to make you an offer.”

Victor stopped talking.

“You need your stage manager. And you need your stage manager to pass my class. Now, you could just let him come to tutoring like a normal club advisor, however, you seem convinced that him missing a fraction of your rehearsal would result in Armageddon. So I’m going to propose another option. Let me come to your rehearsal. When Mr. Plisetsky’s not working, we’ll talk math. When he is working, I’ll stay out of your way. Deal?”

For a moment, all Victor could do was stare.

“ _Why_?”

Katsuki just laughed. “Because contrary to common belief, I don’t enjoy failing students and I certainly don't like terrorizing English teachers. And besides, it might be entertaining. I actually don’t mind theater.”

Victor sighed. “Well, I don’t have a better idea, nor do I have the energy to fight you. Rehearsals are in the auditorium.”

He turned sharply and rushed back towards the stairwell. Hopefully, Yuri had actually made it through warm-ups without strangling anyone. Hopefully, the whole cast was costumed, the orchestra was warmed up, and everything was ready to go. Hopefully, a makeup artist had fallen from the sky along with more budget money and a better superintendent. After all, it was tech week. Anything could happen.

When he finally reached the auditorium, he found he was slightly luckier than expected. The cast was almost entirely costumed, the whole orchestra was accounted for, and JJ was leading vocal warm-ups. Otabek had the stage set for the first act and was talking things over with Yuri on the side of the stage.

“So am I off the hook?” Yuri asked as Victor approached.

“No. Quite the contrary, actually. Mr. Katsuki’s decided to come to rehearsal and work with you in your downtime. He’s probably going to be backstage with you, you’re going to be civil about it. And you’re going to actually learn enough to pass your test Wednesday.”

Yuri just stared, mouth slightly open.

“So let me make sure I understand this,” Otabek said. “Yura’s failing trigonometry and as a punishment, I get a math teacher camping out in my domain?”

“Trig is fucking _hard_ , Beka.”

“Can I at least put Katsuki to work? Make him move set?”

“If he wants to, don’t hesitate. We need the extra hands. And if Yuri’s not taking him seriously, you have my full permission to do whatever you deem necessary.”

Yuri rolled his eyes but didn’t protest.

Victor walked over to the rest of the cast. JJ had started warm-ups and actually done a decent job. A few ensemble members were missing shoes, but other than that, they were all costumed.

Victor cut off warm-ups and started to talk through his instructions. After a few minutes, he sent the cast into the wings and signaled Chris to start the overture. He saw Katsuki walk into the auditorium, but kept his focus firmly on the Conrad Birdie theme song.

_We love you, Conrad…_

* * *

The first act had been a mess. Telephone Hour had completely fallen apart, the transitions took a ridiculously long time. The fact that they had a two-man stage crew didn’t exactly help in that department. The orchestra was putting up a strong fight, but with half the cast missing cues, it wasn’t going well.

By the time they made it through One Last Kiss, it was five thirty.

Time for dinner.

Victor dismissed the cast and watched them file out into the halls towards the familiar smell of food. He did a quick sweep of the stage before following them out, notepad still in hand.

The Altins had set up dinner in the cafeteria, and by the time Victor made it there, the cast was already eating. Anara handed him a pre-made plate along with a mug of coffee.

“You are a saint,” he said, offering her a hug.

“No,” Anara corrected. “I’m a drama mom. But thank you. For the compliment and for the show.”

Victor shrugged and took a long drink of coffee. “It wouldn’t be a show without your boy.”

Anara just laughed and shook her head. “Either way, take care of yourself.”

“You too,” Victor replied before walking over to his table.

Chris was already there, looking impatient.

“So,” he said as Victor sat down. “We vamped the Sweetapple transition twenty-three times. My poor freshmen looked about ready to die.”

“Otabek will get the transitions nailed down, don’t worry. He’s working on it. And I’m still trying to get a few more stagehands.”

“Come on, V. Don’t you have someone failing your Shakespeare class or something?”

“I can’t offer extra credit for stage work, it goes against everything I stand for and you know that.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Right. You’re above that. However, you’re apparently not above picking up stray eye candy from the math department. When did that happen?”

“Two and a half hours ago. Yuri’s failing his math class, he’s here to tutor him without actually taking him out of rehearsal.”

“Is he single?”

Victor laughed. “You think I know? He is pretty though, someone should ask.”

“Say, he’s sitting over with Yuri and Otabek now. Didn’t you have a long list of things to talk to Mr. Altin about before the second act?”

“I like the way you think,” Victor said with a smile. “However, unlike you, I’m more than alright with watching from a distance. And I still haven’t gotten through all my notes for you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chris protested. “My orchestra is perfect.”

“Oh, Telephone Hour was proof of that, wasn’t it?”

“Touchè, mon amie. Touchè.”

* * *

Victor had a lot of problems. He had no makeup artist. He had no set crew. He had a stage manager on the edge of failing math and enough backstage drama to power a small midwestern town.

He also had Act Two Scene Five.

Act Two Scene Five was also known as the Shriner’s Ballet, or as JJ explained it, the “Iz attempting to seduce a bunch of men to make Leo jealous” scene.

Isabella Yang was a remarkable student and a lovely girl.

She was not seductive, not in the least.

That was a problem in and of itself.

The second, more pressing problem was the fact that the beautiful backstage enigma apparently knew a thing or two about seductive dancing and had stepped in to assist. He wasn’t actually dancing, Victor hadn’t been that lucky. But he was standing on stage with his sleeves rolled up and his glasses pushed up on top of his head.

It really was a phenomenal look for him.

“Your hips are probably your greatest allies,” he was saying to Isabella. “If you pivot just a little and change your angle, they’ll work miracles. Move your foot here, look towards that exit sign…”

Victor didn’t hear everything he said- he was too busy focusing on the way Katsuki looked on the stage, under the lights. He was still talking, gesturing towards an imaginary point in between the orchestra and the back exit. His wrists looked wonderful now that they weren’t buried by long sleeves.

He was only pointing out little details- the tension in her fingers, the angle of her shoulder blades, the way she was holding her arms. But the more Isabella adapted, the better she looked. She looked stronger, more confident, more like Chita Rivera’s Rose Alvarez.

Katsuki must’ve had a dance background at one point, there was no denying it.

It could’ve been latin, maybe ballroom. Or, of course, it could’ve been both. Maybe he could salsa. It also could’ve been ballet, but the mental image of Katsuki salsa dancing was much more entertaining.

“Mr. Nikiforov,” Isabella’s voice said, breaking him from his daydreaming. “Better?”

She held a few poses and slowly started her steps. Katsuki slowly retreated back into the wings as she silently moved through her dance.

“Much better,” Victor affirmed. “Can we run that with the music?”

Isabella got back into her starting position, the small ensemble of Shriners adjusting their hats. Chris started the music, and they started the scene.

Act Two Scene Five faded into Act Two Scene Six and so on and so forth. On the bright side, the second act went better than the first. Considering how well the first act had gone, that wasn’t much of an accomplishment. But it was an accomplishment nonetheless and Victor was taking what he could get.

It was ten minutes to nine by the time they started notes.

Nobody had expected a timely dismissal on the first day, right?

The cast gathered in the auditorium seats and Victor took his seat on the edge of the stage. He made sure to go over some of the highlights, start with the compliments before digging deep into the rehearsal. After all, things definitely could have gone worse.

It was almost nine thirty by the time Victor finished notes. By the time the cast all made it out of the auditorium, it was bordering on nine forty-five. He triple checked the wings and the green room before locking up for the night, though he doubted anyone would be hiding out.

He made his way out to his car, where Yuri was waiting in the passenger seat. Victor set his bags in the back seat before sliding into the driver’s side. He turned the music down and started to back out of his parking spot.

“So,” Yuri said. “It can’t get fucking worse, can it?”

Victor shrugged. “I mean, the whole cast could come down with mono or something, but I’m trying to stay optimistic.”

“Speaking of optimism,” Yuri said with a smirk. “At least something good came out of my math grade.”

“And that would be?”

“You get to stare at Katsuki. And don’t even pretend you weren’t, it was really fucking obvious. Not that I’m surprised, you’ve definitely liked uglier people.”

“Was that a compliment?”

“Absolutely not, you’re just desperate.”

Victor sighed but didn’t get the chance to reply.

“Just don’t say I never did anything nice for you. I failed math so you could ogle an attractive Japanese math teacher. That’s dedication.”

Victor laughed. “You’re sure it wasn’t because of the trigonometry?”

“Absolutely fucking positive,” Yuri replied.

The rest of the drive was passed in silence. Eventually, Victor pulled into Yuri’s driveway and dropped him off. His own apartment was only a few blocks away, and before he knew it, he was home.

He heated up some leftovers in the strange silence of his empty apartment. Nikolai had volunteered to take Makkachin for the week, and while Victor was grateful, he already missed his dog.

The microwave dinged and Victor retrieved his food.

Six days from now, it would all be over. Six days from now, there would be no more rehearsals, no more shows, no more long nights. In six days he’d be back in his apartment after school, with Makkachin.

He could make it six more days, right?

After all, the show could only get better from day one.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm definitely not avoiding my problems by writing a high school theatre au, no not at all...
> 
> But seriously you guys thanks for reading, let me know what you think, come scream at me on tumblr (locallygrownavocado.tumblr.com)... Whatever floats your boat. 
> 
> I'll try to upload a new chapter in a week or two, but finals are coming up fast and life is crazy. No promises. But more is coming, eventually. :) 
> 
> Thanks again guys! You're the best!


	2. Tuesday

It was three thirty. It was three thirty and Victor was still upstairs, rushing to grab everything he needed for rehearsal, which was supposed to start at least twenty minutes ago.

Of course drama lit had run over. Of course Lenny Michaels had decided to come by asking about his paper. Of course Lilia needed dates confirmed for staff training. Of course the athletic director needed more signatures.

And of course, Victor was very very late.

He didn’t want to think about what the cast was doing. Had JJ done warm-ups? Had they even started costumes? Had anyone checked in with Chris, or was he sitting confused in the orchestra pit? Maybe they’d all left to get ice cream. He was half an hour late, he wouldn't be surprised. Chris probably would’ve encouraged them, too.

Victor sprinted down the stairs and into the main hallway, coffee in hand, desperately trying not to splash espresso on his shirt.

Thankfully, he made it down the stairs unscathed.

Sadly, he was intercepted before he could make it to the auditorium.

The interceptor, however, was none other than JJ himself, in his full act one costume. His hair was slicked back, leather jacket looking very teen heart-throb. But Victor’s eyes were focused on the face.

JJ’s face was painted with foundation, brows drawn in near-perfect arches, eyes popping out under the liner. He had some stubble shaded in around his chin along with some lightly enhanced lines across his forehead. And the contour… The contour was beautifully done.

Victor knew for a fact that JJ couldn’t contour to save his life.

“Your face,” he said before JJ had the chance to open his mouth. “What happened to your face?”

“Well, makeup, of course!” JJ exclaimed, striking an overly dramatic pose. “What, do I not look Conrad Birdie enough for you?”

“JJ, I didn’t get a makeup artist. I texted _everyone_. The only one who didn’t respond was Dani’s mom, and I didn’t even think she had any experience but I mean I suppose she might have gotten some somewhere. I didn’t think-”

“Calm down, Nikiforov, it’s not Mrs. Marcus. Just… breathe. Take a few deep breaths and walk with me. You’re not that late, we’ve got plenty of time. The cast is in costume, makeup is almost done. The orchestra is present and accounted for, and we’re not gonna suck quite as much as we did yesterday.”

Victor took a deep breath and followed JJ to the green room.

“I mean, you think I look good?” JJ said as he walked. “You should see what he did to Bella. Her lipstick shade is _fine_. And the aging he did on Mila is something else. She looks older than you.”

“Well I’d certainly hope so considering she’s playing someone older than my grandmother,” Victor said dryly. “But really, it’s only been like half an hour, how is everything almost done? Did he bring a team with him? Did a whole hair and makeup squad fall out of the sky?”

JJ just laughed. “Sadly, no. But he had us do all our own baseline stuff, and he got Giacometti to help out in sections. They’re moving pretty efficiently, actually.”

“And you have no idea where this makeup artist came from?”

JJ laughed again. “Actually, I know exactly where he came from.”

He pushed open the door to the green room, revealing the chaotic pre-show mess unfurling between costume racks and a scattered cast.

“Look who decided to show up,” Chris’s voice said cheerily from below.

“I got held up, I’m sorry,” Victor replied half-heartedly, eyes scanning the room for JJ’s mysterious makeup man.

Victor’s heart skipped about three beats when he finally saw him.

As it turned out, the mystery man wasn’t a mystery at all. He was none other than Mr. Katsuki of the math department, who apparently had a greater-than-average knowledge of makeup techniques.

“You’re staring,” JJ said.

“You could’ve warned me, you know,” Victor replied, still watching Katsuki across the room.

JJ just laughed. “No, your reaction is much better. You think he’s gay? I could try to find out for you.”

“No no no no no,” Victor said quickly, turning to actually face the actor. “That’s completely unnecessary, not to mention unprofessional. You’ll do nothing of the sort.”

JJ shrugged. “Well, don’t say I didn’t offer.”

Victor shook his head to himself and turned back towards the rest of the cast. They were all scrambling in different directions- some doing makeup, some finishing up costumes, some wandering aimlessly between conversations.

Victor cleared his throat.

“Alright,” he called. “If you’re in costume and fully makeuped, get out of this room. We’re starting warm-ups.”

The crowded green room started to clear out as Victor made his way towards the stage door.

“Mr. Nikiforov,” Katsuki’s voice said, causing Victor to stop in his tracks. “I hope you don’t mind that I stepped in. I just figured you could use the help and since you weren’t exactly around to say anything…”

For a second, Victor just stared.

And then Chris laughed. “You think he’s mad at you? Mon amie, you have impeccable makeup skills, he’s never going to let you leave.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “Thank you for the insight, Mr. Giacometti. Don’t you have an orchestra to warm up? And as for you, Mr. Katsuki… it’s wonderful. Really, just… well… thank you.”

Katsuki nodded and Victor continued walking towards the stage door. Chris caught up with him quickly, wrapping his arm around his shoulder.

“Smooth,” he said softly in Victor’s ear. “Really, you’re a natural.”

“You know, if your orchestra is as out of tune as it was yesterday, I’m blaming this interaction. Go warm up.”

“The orchestra is the least of your problems, and you know it. But on an unrelated note, I have a theory about our good friend from the math department. It’d explain the dance advice he gave Isabella, as well as the makeup skills he apparently possesses. Don’t tell me you’re not curious.”

Victor sighed. “Do I want to know?”

Chris just laughed. “Two words, mon amie. _Drag Queen_.”

And with that, he casually strolled off towards the orchestra pit, leaving Victor to stare aimlessly at the door to the green room.

Why _couldn’t_ Katsuki be a drag queen?

It would explain the Shriner’s advice along with the makeup. And he was certainly pretty enough, his cheekbones would look stunning with a bit of contour…

“Get a grip, old man,” Yuri’s voice snapped. “If you’re this fucking spacey already go drink another coffee. We haven't even started yet.”

Victor nodded. “Sorry, long day, I’m going.”

Yuri muttered something under his breath that Victor didn’t quite catch. Judging by the tone, he probably didn’t want to know.

He made his way out of the wings and onto the stage, greeting the cast with a few slightly pointed reminders about yesterday’s run through. He ran warm-ups as quickly as possible and sent the cast into their positions for the first act. He signaled Chris, and the overture began.

He heard a small crash backstage, followed by a string of curse words that had definitely come from Otabek.

“We’re fine,” Yuri shouted from backstage. “We’re fine, keep going.”

The response would’ve been comforting had Victor not heard the quieter follow-up.

“Beka, where the fuck is the duct tape?”

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

 

By the time they finished act one, it was four thirty. Instead of starting the second act, Victor decided to run through the notes he’d taken so far. The cast filed into the auditorium seats and Victor took place on the edge of the stage. He started at the top of his notepad and worked his way down until eventually it was five and time for dinner.

The cast didn’t need to be told twice.

The auditorium emptied in minutes, leaving Victor and Chris to walk down the cafeteria together.

“So,” Chris said as they made their way down the hall. “Do you think he’d look better as a blonde or a brunette?”

“What?”

Chris just laughed. “Katsuki. If he’s a drag queen, he has to have a wig, right? My gut instinct was blonde, but I really don’t think it’s his color…”

“I swear to God I’m never speaking to you again.”

They walked the rest of the way in almost-silence, Chris was casually humming One Boy in a not-so-subtle attempt to get under Victor’s skin.

It was working.

Eventually, they made it to the cafeteria, where Nikolai Plisetsky was feeding the cast. They took their spots at the end of the line, which coincidentally happened to be right next to the theatre department’s favorite math teacher.

Victor wasn’t sure if this was a good coincidence or not.

“Mr. Katsuki,” Chris said cheerily. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“Uh, yes?” the math teacher hesitantly replied. “I’m still… here?”

Chris either didn’t notice the man’s discomfort or didn’t care.

“Well, since we’re conveniently standing here in line together, I actually had a question for you, something I was a little curious about.”

“Chris, no,” Victor said, trying to sound as passive-aggressive as possible.

“Chris, _yes_ ,” he replied, rushing into his question before Victor had the chance to stop him. “Mr. Katsuki, you seem to have a unique skill set for a math teacher. I was wondering if you had a history in drag?”

It takes him a minute to process, but when he does, he flushes redder than Isabella’s lipstick.

“ _Drag?_ As in… Oh, _God_. No. Just… no.”

Chris sighed dramatically. “That’s a shame, you really have great potential, wonderful bone structure… you could do burlesque.”

“Chris, _no_.”

Thankfully, they reached the front of the line before Chris could make any further comment.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” Nikolai said, looking over Katsuki. “New staff advisor? Choreographer?”

“No, I’m just a math teacher hanging along for the ride,” he replied, offering out his hand. “Yuuri Katsuki.”

Nikolai shook his hand and laughed. “It’s alright, I know why you’re here. Yuri Plisetsky is my grandson. He told me about you.”

Katsuki laughed nervously. “Really? Should I be concerned?”

“No, he likes you, don’t worry. You’re doing a good thing. Now let me feed you to repay your efforts.”

They made their way through the food line, Nikolai explaining some of the Russian dishes to Katsuki. Chris was muttering in French about getting along with the in-laws, but Victor ignored him.

Once they got their food, Chris walked over to their usual table. Surprisingly, Katsuki followed.

“Taking a break from the math?” Chris asked as he sat down.

Katsuki shrugged. “Otabek wanted to use the time to go over some set changes, so I agreed to give Yuri some time off. He’s been doing really well, he deserves it.”

Chris smiled. “Well, then. By all means, take a seat.”

Katsuki smiled and claimed a chair across from Chris and on Victor’s left.

“So Mr. Katsuki,” Victor said, thinking back to JJ’s comments earlier. “How’s backstage treating you? Has the cast been giving you any trouble?”

Katsuki shook his head. “No, they’re great. There haven’t been any problems. Although Emil decided to draw out the ‘drama club drama’ diagram for me while you were running one of the musical numbers and I’m beginning to think your cast might be on the edge of a civil war.”

Victor just laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s always that way. We’re just… dramatic people I guess. As long as JJ doesn’t push too far and Mickey keeps his cool, we should be alright. That’s the main rivalry, right?”

Katsuki nodded. “They’ve got it split into sides, you know. People who would side with JJ, people who would back Mickey. That whole feud took up at least eighty percent of their explanation.”

Chris laughed. “What was the other twenty percent?”

Katsuki shrugged. “The usual… who’s romantically interested in who, when will certain people come out of the closet, what’s the exact nature of the director’s relationship status, etcetera.”

Chris raised his eyebrows. “You hear that, V? They actually think you have a relationship status.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “Do I even want to know?”

“It’s not too bad, actually. Most of the cast thinks you and Mr. Giacometti are dating, but I’m assuming from the comments that that’s not true?”

Chris just laughed. “No, mon amie. I only sleep with boys who are actually _pretty_.”

“Do I need to show him Esteban?” Victor asked, reaching for his phone. “Because I was definitely prettier than Esteban.”

Chris gave a dramatic sigh. “Ah, but Esteban was _exotic_.”

“Right,” Victor said dryly. “But anyways. I’m not dating Chris. He’s… not my type. Apparently, I should be making that a little more clear.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Katsuki said hesitantly, “There was a pretty nice handful of freshmen who insisted you couldn’t be dating him because you don’t prefer men.”

Chris almost choked on his pirozhki.

Victor just laughed. “Which freshmen? Am I not obvious enough? Chris, what am I doing wrong?”

“You know, you could actually get a boyfriend,” Chris replied.  “That might help.”

“Good advice, I’ll just pick one up from Walmart next time I’m out. Thanks.”

Chris sighed. “I’ve offered to set you up. Unlike you, I actually go out sometimes. I meet lots of pretty people. If you were to just open up that pretty little mind of yours...”

“The day I trust you to set me up with anyone will be the day I hand in my resignation and turn the department back over to Lilia.”

Katsuki just chuckled to himself. “Now I know why they call you the drama department.”

“Guilty as charged,” Victor replied.

“If it makes you feel better,” Chris said with a smirk, “the orchestra’s been betting on your sexuality since yesterday. You’re not immune.”

“They’re _what_?” Katsuki face flushed into a bright shade of red.

Chris just laughed. “Why so surprised? You’re young, you’re pretty, and of course, you’re new. They don’t exactly much faculty eye candy and considering they think V and I are sleeping together, you’re the most interesting thing in the room.”

For a second, Katsuki just stared. “That’s a little concerning.”

“Is it?” Chris asked, raising his eyebrows. “I prefer to think of it as endearing.”

“Of course _you_ do,” Victor muttered under his breath.

“You know, I think I need a drink,” Katsuki said as he stood up. He walked out quickly, not bothering to look back.

“There’s water right here,” Chris said as soon as Katsuki disappeared.

Victor rolled his eyes. “You’re an ass, Chris. A complete ass.”

Chris just laughed. “Ah, but he didn’t say he isn’t gay.”

Victor sighed. “I’m going to find him. Send the cast back in five minutes or so.”

He heard Chris reply as he walked off, but he didn’t pay much attention to the actual words. He grabbed an extra water bottle on his way out and began his search.

Katsuki wasn’t by any of the drinking fountains, nor was he in any of the hallways. At least not on the first level. Maybe he’d gone upstairs. Technically speaking, Victor could sprint up to Katsuki’s office and check there, but he wasn't quite sure he remembered where it was and if he got lost on the second floor he probably wouldn’t make it down in time to start rehearsal.

Instead, he checked the green room.

It was empty.

Victor sighed and sat on a barstool. He wasn’t sure why he was so upset. He didn’t exactly know Katsuki that well, they’d only met yesterday. The only thing he really knew was that he was a dedicated math teacher. And that he could do makeup. But he wasn’t a drag queen, nor did he have any intention of becoming one. He’d also managed to sit through the ‘drama club drama’ lecture without killing anyone, meaning he definitely had the patience of a saint. He could possibly have a dance background, or he could not.

Either way, he was utterly fascinating.

He was beautiful and mysterious and just… _fascinating_.

But tomorrow Yuri would take his math test. Considering Katsuki’s dedication and teaching skills, Yuri would probably pass. The score would drag his grade up, he wouldn’t be failing. He’d be eligible to participate in the show. The cast would be relieved. Otabek would be relieved. Victor would be relieved.

And no math teachers would be needed in the drama department.

Damn, he’d have to find a makeup artist again, too.

The sounds of an approaching cast forced Victor back into reality. Katsuki or no Katsuki, he had a show to run. The second act had been a mess yesterday. It needed redemption. And that redemption would start with getting JJ out of his glittering rock star suit and back into his leather jacket.

* * *

 

They made it through the second act twice. The cast had shed their costumes in record time, and notes hadn’t taken a small millennia to get through. By the time nine fifteen rolled around, most of the cast had disappeared for the night.

The theatre gods were still bestowing miracles after all.

Yuri and Otabek had stayed late working- they’d wanted to run a few of the rougher transitions a few more times. Victor wasn’t complaining. If it cut down on the awkward orchestra vamps, he’d take it.

And so there he stood in the aisle of the auditorium, watching Otabek lay down extra spike tape. Yuri was examining the stairs.

“If JJ fell off these, do you think he’d die or just get a concussion?”

Otabek glared at him.

“What if I pushed him off?”

Otabek threw a roll of spike tape at him.

The banter continued, but Victor lost interest the minute Mr. Katsuki stepped out of the wings. He had his bag slung over his shoulder, a water bottle in his hand. Apparently, he’d stuck around for some reason instead of leaving when the rest of the cast did. As for what that reason was, Victor had no idea.

He did know, however, that he wasn’t missing his chance.

He waved the math teacher down and met him halfway down the aisle.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound less panicked than he actually felt. “About Chris and dinner earlier…”

“It’s fine,” Katsuki replied, glancing at his watch.

“No, it’s not fine,” Victor protested. “Chris is an ass, I should've shut it down before it got that far. And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Katsuki said. “It’s really not a big deal. I was just a little stressed, I got flustered.”

Victor sighed. “Still shouldn’t have happened.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, but for some reason, Katsuki didn’t leave.

“God,” Victor finally said. “That wall is the ugliest shade of orange I’ve ever seen. Whose decision was that?”

Katsuki chuckled a little. “Considering you’re the director, probably yours.”

“You got me there,” Victor replied, shaking his head a little. “In my defense, Otabek didn’t talk me out of it, so it’s partially on him.”

“Do you usually rely on high school students to rectify your taste in paint?”

Victor tried to think of a snappy response.

He had none.

Thankfully, Katsuki’s phone rang before the silence stretched too long.

“It’s my sister,” he said. “I should go.”

Victor nodded as Katsuki picked up the phone. He waved as the math teacher walked out, eyes locked on his figure until the auditorium door finally blocked him from view.

Maybe Yuri could bomb his math test.

Not enough to fail the course, but just enough to keep his teacher concerned. Maybe if he rode the line a little too close, Katsuki would come back just to be sure. There had to be a line somewhere, if Victor could just find it and somehow instill it into Yuri…

“Hey, old man,” Yuri’s voice snapped from the stage. “Are you done staring at the door yet? Because I’m really fucking hungry and I’d like to get home before you go senile or something.”

Victor sighed. “I’ll meet you in the car, just let me lock up.”

Yuri muttered something under his breath as he walked off the stage, but Victor didn’t quite hear it.

He wandered aimlessly through his closing routine- he shut off the stage lights, locked the green room, made sure all the curling irons were unplugged. He saw the ‘drama club drama’ diagram drawn up on the whiteboard, complete with stick figure doodles of the cast.

He took a picture of it before turning out the lights.

It was kind of cute, after all.

Eventually, he made it back to the auditorium doors and locked them for the night. He made his way out to his car, where Yuri was impatiently waiting.

They drove home in silence.

“Don’t fail your math test,” Victor said as he stopped in Nikolai’s driveway.

“I don’t plan to,” Yuri replied, shutting the car door behind him.

The comment should’ve been comforting.

It wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back with day two! Thanks for reading, guys! Let me know what you think!


	3. Wednesday

Victor was fairly certain he’d read an article online somewhere about how Tuesday was scientifically the worst day of the week.

Victor quickly came to the conclusion that the study was wrong.

His decision began with trivial reasons- the shirt he’d wanted to wear was in the laundry, the drive-through at Starbucks was longer than Beethoven's Ninth, an adorable orange vehicle had decided to take his parking spot…

But then there had been the athletic director.

It had started with a cute, innocent email summoning Victor down to the office at his earliest convenience. It had started with a ‘good morning’ and contained at least two exclamation points. And so Victor had casually walked down to the office after third period expecting to be asked for signatures or to be questioned about ticket sales.

Instead, he was informed that his budget for the spring play was going to be cut. 

He’d said it so _ nicely _ , too. He gave an adorable little speech about school priorities and other needs that had to be filled. He’d mentioned the cuts in other departments, reassured Victor that it was nothing personal.

And then he’d mentioned the fact that the football team had qualified for state. 

Why couldn’t they fundraise for their transportation like every other organization in the building?

_ “Because they’re the football team, Mr. Nikiforov.” _

As if that meant anything. 

There had been other inconveniences, too. Both of his freshman English sections had been roller coasters. There had been a fire drill in the middle of his lunch period. And then there were the emails, sent in from various Crispinos, informing Victor that Sara was losing her voice.

Sara had emailed him first and had explained the situation quite nicely. She said she’d woken up with throat pain and it hadn’t worn off. She asked if she could skip the singing in rehearsal, just to avoid making it worse. 

Her mother had emailed about half an hour later validating her claim and reassuring Victor that they were doing everything they could at home to remedy the situation. 

And then there was the email from Mickey, who insisted that if his sister were to ever recover properly, she should be put on full vocal rest and completely excused from rehearsal.

And so by Wednesday afternoon, Victor had a lead actress without a voice, a stack full of freshman english papers to grade, virtually no spring play budget, and not nearly enough coffee to carry him through rehearsal.

Oh, and depending on how Yuri’s math test had gone, he was either missing a makeup artist or missing a stage manager. 

Victor glanced at the clock. It was two fifty-eight. Though he didn’t know exactly how long rehearsal would go tonight, he figured it was safe to assume that it wouldn't run past ten. If Victor allowed for lock-up time and travel, he’d be home by eleven at the latest. 

Eleven was eight hours and two minutes away. 

Victor could make it eight hours and two minutes.

Eventually, the bell rang and the drama lit class cleared out of the classroom. Victor gathered his things and made his way towards his office. He packed up as quickly as he could, grabbing his stack of papers for good measure. Maybe he’d actually get some grading done over dinner. 

By the time he made it downstairs, the countdown was closer to seven hours and fifty-four minutes.

Not that Victor was counting. 

No, Victor was absolutely  _ thrilled _ to be directing the musical this year. He was energized, full of enthusiasm, and totally ready for another six-hour rehearsal. He wasn’t counting. 

He ran into Sara before he made it to the auditorium. She was on her way out of choir and looked like she was on the edge of a breakdown.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, voice strained and almost inaudible amidst the noise of the hallway. “I don’t know what happened. I can probably get through most of the lines, I don’t think I can sing though.”

“It’s alright, try not to worry about it,” Victor replied with as much optimism as he could muster. “It’s probably just stress. I’ll text the Leroys and have them bring you some tea with dinner. That might help. As for rehearsal, we’ll keep you on stage for the sake of blocking, but I’ll find someone to read your part. Rest is probably your best option right now.”

Sara smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome. Now go get ready, we have a show to run.”

The actress nodded and rushed off towards the green room. Victor pulled out his phone and texted Nathalie Leroy about tea. The woman was practically a saint, she’d understand. 

By the time Victor reached the auditorium, it was only three twelve.

That was definitely a tech week record. 

He started to walk down the aisle and towards the front but stopped halfway when he actually saw the stage. 

There was a single set piece there- the inside corner of the Macafee house. It wasn’t in the right spot, it was turned a bit too crooked and placed slightly too far left. 

But it was beige.

Last night it had been orange.

It had been obnoxiously, unavoidably orange. 

And now it was  _ beige _ . 

“You alright, mon amie?” Chris asked as he approached. 

Victor shook his head. “He painted my wall.”

“What?”

Victor sighed. “Look at the wall, Chris. The Macafee wall. The wall that I decided to paint bright orange earlier in the semester while under the influence of sleep deprivation and espresso.  _ That _ wall.”

Chris sighed. “V, darling, you know I love you. But that wall isn’t orange.”

“Exactly. But it was orange last night. I remember because I bitched to Katsuki about it. And now the wall is beige.”

“That mug is full of coffee, right? Not vodka?”

“Chris,  _ he painted my wall _ .”

The orchestra conductor just shook his head. “You know, good for him. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go help with makeup. When you’re done having an identity crisis in the middle of your auditorium, you should join me.”

Victor nodded as Chris walked off. He stared at the wall for a few more minutes, still trying to wrap his head around it. Katsuki had come in and painted the set. It had to have been him. Otabek had been in class all day and nobody else cared enough about the color to actually do anything about it. 

_ Katsuki had painted the set. _

Victor took a deep breath and another long drink of coffee.

_ Katsuki had painted the set. _

He started walking again, setting his bags in the front row of seating. He pulled out his notepad and set his coffee down on the armrest. 

“Hey, old man!” Yuri shouted as he ran down the aisle.

He slammed to a stop when he reached the front row and pressed a sheet of paper into Victor’s hand. It was a little crinkled around the edges and covered in pencil markings that took Victor a minute to understand. 

They were math problems. 

Slowly, his eyes drifted to the top of the paper.

Ninety-one percent. 

Katsuki had even drawn a smiley face.

Yuri had passed. 

He was passing math. 

“You could at least pretend to look happy about it,” Yuri muttered. 

Victor looked up from the paper and did his best to smile. “I am, I really am. It’s just been a long day, I’m tired. But I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Yuri snatched the paper back and jumped up onto the stage. Otabek was already there, examining the Macafee wall. He turned and gave Victor a thumbs-up. 

Victor shook his head and started for the green room. 

Chaos was waiting for him the minute he arrived. Costumes were all over, hairspray thick and concentrated in the air. Chris was sitting on a barstool by the mirror, a makeup sponge in hand. He was working on Mickey, who was ranting about something probably related to Sara. 

But Victor wasn’t looking at Chris, not really.

He was looking at the person behind Chris, the one doing Mila’s makeup, the one that technically had no reason to be anywhere near the department anymore with Yuri’s new and improved math grade. 

“Welcome back to reality,” Chris said dryly. “Although you still look about five hundred miles away.”

“Sorry,” Victor said, focus still on Katsuki. “You painted my set.”

Katsuki chuckled nervously but didn’t make eye contact. “I hope you’re not mad about that, I just had some extra time during one of my prep periods and I figured it couldn’t hurt.”

Chris just laughed. “Mad? He’s just in shock that someone in the department is listening to his opinions. It’s been a while.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “Sure. Chris, what do we have in terms of ensemble sopranos?”

The orchestra conductor thought for a minute. “We have Kali, Becca, and Dani for sure. Alaina’s a high mezzo, she might be able to get there. Same goes for Leah. Why?”

“Sara’s on vocal rest today. I figured I’d just read for her, but if we had a strong soprano who could fill in the vocal parts… I don’t know.”

“Becca and Dani aren’t strong on their vocal parts as is, I wouldn’t add more. Kali might be able to do it, but she gets so nervous... Alaina and Leah probably don’t quite have the range for Kim Macafee.”

“I figured as much,” Victor said. “In that case, we’ll probably cut Kim’s numbers tonight. You can do the lead-in, but we’ll probably end up skipping through. Sara knows her choreography, it’ll be fine.”

Chris nodded. “Makes sense. You really want to read, though? You’ve got enough to focus on as is.”

Victor shrugged. “It’s not ideal, but I don’t want to pull ensemble to do it. They need all the practice they can get. I know most of the lines and it shouldn’t be too distracting.”

Chris opened his mouth to reply but didn’t get the chance.

“I could read,” Katsuki said as he highlighted the age lines on Mila’s forehead. “If you get me a script, that is. You should be focussing on notes, not reading for Sara.”

For a second Victor just stared. 

Thankfully Chris stepped in. 

“I thought you were here to teach, Katsuki, not voice a teenager from the sixties.”

“Well,” the math teacher replied. “The student I came here to teach actually passed his test today. He did remarkably well, I’m not worried.”

“And yet you’re still here,” Chris said, giving Victor a suggestive look. “Curious.”

Katsuki just laughed. “Well, someone gave me this ridiculous speech two days ago, and I figured he could use the help he could get.”

It took Victor a minute to realize exactly what he was talking about. 

“ _ Oh _ . Right. That. Well… thank you. It’s appreciated.”

Chris laughed. “V being melodramatic and scaring people? That I can believe.”

Victor didn’t get the chance to deliver his snappy comeback. 

“Mr. Nikiforov,” Emil shouted. “Leo needs help.”

Victor sighed and started walking. “What sort of help?”

“Uh…” Emil poked his head into the dressing room. “Hair mistakes were made.”

That was an understatement. As it turned out, Leo’s hair was almost completely coated in gel. Most of it had dried already, which would’ve been fine had the hair actually been going in the right direction. 

“Emil, I need a spray bottle,” Victor said as he grabbed a brush. “Leo, dear, what did you do?”

Leo had no answer. 

But Emil had a spray bottle, and thus Leo’s hair had a chance. 

* * *

Once they got through hair and makeup, the show had gone incredibly well. They’d made it through almost the entire show- they’d cut off for dinner right before the ice house. The set changes had been rocky in spots, but overall they were going quicker. They hadn’t had to stop in the middle of Telephone Hour, or any of the songs for that matter. 

Oh, and Katsuki had been sitting cross-legged on the edge of the stage the whole time, reading from JJ’s script.

And he looked phenomenal in khakis. 

Sadly, he’d gotten a phone call from his sister while walking to dinner and had stayed behind. But that didn’t stop Victor from spending most of his walk to the cafeteria thinking about the way Katsuki had looked sitting on the edge of his stage.

Chris had definitely noticed. 

“You’re hopeless, mon amie,” he lamented. “Completely hopeless.”

Victor sighed dramatically. “How do you measure a year, Chris? In daylights? Sunsets and midnights? In cups of coffee and attractive math teachers sitting on the edge of your stage looking like heaven under the lights?”

“If you start singing, I’m taking my orchestra and leaving this production.”

“Chris,  _ he painted my wall _ .”

“How are you still caught on that?”

“Do you think he’d do the sets for the spring play?”

Chris just laughed. “If you pay him, probably.”

“Do you think he’d accept payment in the form of compliments and happy feelings?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “You have a budget, V. Use it.”

“Yeah, about that…” Victor said, biting the edge of his lip. “I lost about seventy percent of that budget today. Football team needs to get to state.”

For a second, Chris just stared. 

“ _ Shit _ .”

“Language, Mr. Giacometti,” Victor said bitterly. “But yes. We’re going to have to do Shakespeare or something, I don’t think we’ll be able to pay royalties.”

Chris thought for a minute, a dangerous glint creeping into his eyes. 

“Victor,” he said with a smirk. “ _ Macbeth. _ ”

“Chris I swear to God.”

“You could do Romeo and Juliet and use the monologues to win over your favorite math teacher.”

Victor shook his head. “Freshman English has ruined that play. The district would let me do Ibsen, right?”

“V, I’m a band director, not an English teacher.”

“Right,” Victor said as they walked into the cafeteria. 

Nathalie Leroy greeted them the minute they arrived and handed Victor a tall Starbucks cup. 

“I brought the tea, too, don’t worry,” she said. “But I figured you could use the extra kick.”

Victor smiled. “You’re the best, you know that right? The absolute best.”

Nathalie laughed. “Speaking of the best, where’s this mysterious math teacher JJ’s been talking about? I’d have thought he’d be with you two.”

“He got a phone call,” Victor said over Chris’s laughter. “Wait, what has JJ told you?”

Nathalie shrugged. “Only that he’s been hanging around lately, and that he’s talented. He also may have mentioned the fact that he’s not bad looking and possibly single.”

“Do I need to warn Alain?”

Nathalie just laughed. “I was asking for your sake, dear. Not mine.”

“Oh,” Victor said, trying to keep his voice even. “ _ Oh _ .”

“No pressure, dear,” Nathalie said cheerily. “I was just curious.”

“Between you and me, Mrs. Leroy,” Chris said, “we’re all curious.”

“Well, good luck to you both. Now, what can I get you boys for dinner?”

* * *

 

It didn’t take Victor long to eat. He’d spent most of his meal watching the door and listening to Chris rant about the football team. 

Katsuki hadn’t come back.

There were only ten minutes left of break, Victor was starting to worry. 

“V, are you even listening?”

“Hm? What did Larson say?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “I stopped talking about Larson five minutes ago, good Lord you’re a mess. He got a phone call. He’s busy. He’ll be back.”

“He has to eat, Chris.”

The orchestra director sighed. “Then you pick up a plate and take it to him, it’s not that hard.”

For a minute Victor reveled in the simplicity of Chris’s solution. 

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” he said as he stood up, earning an exasperated head-shake from Chris. 

“I’ve dealt with more of your drama in the past three days than I have in the past three years.”

Victor shrugged. “Consider it payback for Esteban.”

Chris sighed but didn’t protest as Victor walked back over to the food line. He put together a plate, grabbed a water bottle, and went off in search of Katsuki.

He found the math teacher sitting on the edge of the stage, phone pressed against his ear. As Victor got closer, he realized the conversation wasn’t in English, perhaps Japanese. He set the plate and water on the stage and gestured back towards the doors.

Katsuki shook his head and pointed down at the stage. 

Victor nodded and sat down on the edge. He crossed his legs and waited, listening to the way Katsuki’s voice echoed off the theater walls. He was probably a low tenor, maybe a baritone? Either way, his voice was beautiful. 

After a few seconds, Katsuki hung up. 

“Thanks,” he said. “For the food, I mean.”

Victor nodded. “Well, I figured I had to feed you. I can’t afford to lose another Kim Macafee.”

Katsuki just laughed. “It’s appreciated. The call took longer than I’d expected- Mari’s trying to convince me to do a mural for her tattoo parlor and she’s ridiculously stubborn.”

“Are you going to do it?”

“Of course I’m going to do it, that’s not the issue. As of now, Mari wants to pay me for it. Which is ridiculous, she’s my sister and she technically can’t afford it. But we’ll see. Maybe I’ll just let her pay me and slip the money back into her bank account next time she asks me to audit.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Victor said. “A little deceptive, but good. Have you done many murals?”

Katsuki shook his head. “I did one for my parents a while ago, but that’s it. I’m not that great at it, really. I just took a few art classes.”

Victor fought the urge to laugh. “Well, judging by your set skills, I’d say you’re pretty good.”

“Anyone can paint a wall, Nikiforov.”

“Judging by what that wall looked like last night, I certainly can’t.”

“That was bad paint choice, not bad painting skill,” Katsuki said. “But thanks for the compliment.”

“Hey, on an unrelated note,” Victor said hesitantly. “What would it take for you to stay with this show for a few more days? I still don’t have an official makeup artist and you’re currently a very promising candidate.”

Katsuki raised his eyebrows. “What did you think I was going to do? Chill here for a few more hours and just disappear?”

“Well I mean, I didn’t want to assume…”

Katsuki just laughed. “Sorry, Nikiforov. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Victor smiled as he met the math teacher’s eyes. “I’d never want to. But since you’re going to be staying a while, I’ll have to ask you to call me Victor.”

Katsuki smiled back. “Well, in that case, Victor you can call me Yuuri.”

Victor didn’t get the chance to reply.

“Hey, Nikiforov,” JJ’s voice called as the cast started rolling into the auditorium. “What are we running?”

Victor sighed at the inconvenient timing. “We’re finishing act two,” he shouted. “After that, we’ll reset and start from the top.” 

He jumped off the edge of the stage and went to meet Chris, who had thankfully remembered to bring back Victor’s cup of coffee. 

“So?” Chris asked as he handed over the caffeine.

“We’re on a first name basis now,” Victor said with a smile. 

Chris was not amused. “That’s wonderful, V,” he said dryly. “At this rate, you’ll actually ask him out in what, two years?”

Victor rolled his eyes. “We’re finishing act two and then resetting, don’t you have an orchestra to warm up?”

“Don’t you have a math teacher to lust after?”

“I’m not lusting,” Victor insisted. “Just appreciating.”

“You were quoting RENT.”

“He painted my wall.”

“That’s not a valid counterargument. You’re lusting. Now if you’ll excuse me,  _ I have an orchestra to warm up _ .”

Victor sighed as Chris walked off. According to his phone, it was five forty-three. 

Eleven was only five hours and seventeen minutes away. 

He could make it five hours and seventeen minutes. 

He could definitely make it if he took into consideration the extra coffee and the fact that for three of those hours, Katsuki- no,  _ Yuuri _ \- would be sitting on the edge of his stage reading for Kim Macafee. 

Five hours and seventeen minutes would be just fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back with Wednesday! One day left before opening night! Next chapter should be up in a week or so, but finals are coming and I'm dying so... yeah. We're getting there. 
> 
> As always, thank you guys so much for the feedback- you all make my day! :)


	4. Thursday

Victor had directed fourteen high school productions, six of which were musicals. He’d been through his fair share of drama. He’d had ensemble members quit. He’d had leads pull power trips. He’d dealt with broken sets, dysfunctional lighting, injured actors. Two years ago one of his techies had ended up in the hospital after an incident with a box cutter and a carriage. 

Victor Nikiforov knew drama. He’d seen it with Fiddler, he’d seen it with Putnam County. Cinderella had been a nightmare, and  _ God _ , Into the Woods…

He’d thought he’d seen it all. 

He had not, in fact, seen it all. 

The day had started out normally. His classes had gone fine. Hell, even his freshmen had been well-behaved. They’d finished Lysistrata in drama lit, and Victor was in the auditorium by three twenty.

He decided to start with the second act first- it was shorter and almost always got cut short by dinner or the end of rehearsal. They could use a good strong run. Afterwards, they’d do the first act, and try for a full sequential run after dinner. 

It was a good plan.

Between Victor, Yuuri, and Chris, they got everyone makeuped and costumed in record time, which was a slight miracle considering the singing. 

JJ had put on the Hairspray soundtrack, it couldn’t be helped.

But damn, Yuuri Katsuki had a wonderful voice.

They made it through the second act in record time, and it had actually gone surprisingly well. Somehow Otabek had convinced Yuuri to help move set, and the extra set of hands helped immensely. 

They reset for the first act, and Chris started the overture. 

It was just after five by the time they started the last scene. Emil’s voice rang out into the auditorium as he recited the Ed Sullivan monologue, showbusiness dripping off his voice. 

_ Your surest way to the best in color slides is to insist on the new Kodak! And now, the young man you've all been waiting to see... _

The lights came up, revealing the set of the Ed Sullivan show, with the exception of one camera. Had Otabek lost one of the cameras? Alaina was thankfully handling the situation pretty well, despite her missing prop.

Victor made a note to acknowledge her and ask Otabek about the camera’s whereabouts.

JJ’s vocals went relatively smoothly and the chorus of screaming teenage girls was actually somewhat in tune. 

That would have to change. 

The orchestra died down as JJ moved closer to Sara, wrapping his arm around her waist. 

“Okay, brace yourself, chick,” he said seductively.

Victor knew the stage directions by heart. 

_ (HE takes HER in HIS arms. HUGO, who is right beside them, can bear no more.)  _

“Brace yourself, Conrad Birdie,” Mickey yelled as he burst through the crowd.

_ (He hits HIM; CONRAD goes down.)  _

It had looked so normal.

JJ had collapsed dramatically, Sara had gasped, the ensemble of teenage girls had screamed. 

But then JJ stood up, hand on his nose, red starting to seep between his fingers.

“Mik, what the hell?”

That was not in the script.

That was  _ so  _ far from the script.

“You had it coming, you ass,” Mickey shot back. 

And to make a long story short, that was how Victor ended up sitting in the athletic director’s office with a very angry Hugo Peabody. They’d had a talk. Parents had been called. And then the athletic director had left to retrieve what was surely a mountain of paperwork.

Victor’s phone pinged.

A text from Chris.

**_Stopped the bleeding, doesn’t look broken. Should call Nat tho._ **

Victor sighed. 

**_Will do. Thanks._ **

“You’re lucky,” he said as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. “They stopped the bleeding, they don’t think it’s broken.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Sadly.”

Thankfully, the athletic director walked back in before the silence could stretch too long. 

He gave his speech about responsibility and core values. He talked about discipline. He used the word “son” at least five times. And, of course, he confirmed that Mickey would have to be suspended. 

Mrs. Crispino was not happy.

“I’m so sorry,” she’d said. 

“He’s sorry too,” she’d said. 

“He’s not usually like this, he’ll do better.” she’d said.

The athletic director had not been amused. “He assaulted another student, Mrs. Crispino. I have to suspend him.”

The Italian woman scoffed. “You can’t suspend him. It’s opening weekend.”

“My hands are tied,” Victor said apologetically. “Policy is policy.”

“Well, the show must go on,” Mrs. Crispino snapped back defiantly. “You can’t just sabotage your own theater like some artistic heretic. You’ve known Michelle for years, he isn’t like this.”

The athletic director almost said something, but Victor beat him to it. 

“The show will go on with your without your son. And I’m sorry, I really am. I wish this could’ve ended differently. But Mickey just went after my lead actor and broke multiple rules in the process, I can’t overlook that.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” Mrs. Crispino demanded. “You’ve had my son in your shows for four years now. You  _ know _ him. He isn’t like this. He had to have been provoked. Have you even  _ talked _ to Nathalie’s boy about it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” the athletic director interjected. “Policy is policy. Mr. Nikiforov can’t do anything about it. If you have any other issues, I suggest you come back in the morning and discuss things with the principal.”

“Oh I certainly plan to,” Mrs. Crispino snapped. “And I’m sure Miss Baranovskaya will be thrilled to hear how you’re running this department into the ground.”

She stormed out of the office, Mickey close behind her.

“Honestly, Victor,” she’d said, moments before shutting the door. “You call yourself a director?”

For a minute, there was silence.

Terrible, painstaking silence.

Which, of course, the athletic director proceeded to break by talking over the required paperwork.

God, there was so much paperwork. 

Eventually, the athletic director was satisfied and let Victor leave with a pile of papers to be completed before the end of the week.

If they were actually finished by the end of the week, it would be a small miracle.

Maybe Chris would help if he was promised a drink afterward.

Speaking of Chris… 

Victor pulled out his phone and set a quick text. 

**_Just got done with AD, calling Nathalie now._ **

Nathalie Leroy picked up after two rings. 

“Victor?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“It’s the middle of rehearsal, is something wrong?”

Victor sighed. Of course, something was wrong. 

“There was an incident in rehearsal involving your son,” he said. “He was hit in the nose by another student. By now the bleeding has stopped and we don’t think it’s broken, but we thought you should know.”

For a minute, Nathalie was quiet. “He’s doing fine, though?”

“Yes,” Victor confirmed. Hopefully, if he wasn’t, Chris would’ve said something. “We don’t think it’s serious. It might bruise a little, but he should be alright.”

Another silence. “And the student who hit him?”

Victor sighed. “He’s been suspended.”

“It’s the day before opening night.”

“JJ should be fine for tomorrow. If anything, he’ll just need heavier foundation than usual. The man I have doing makeup is phenomenal, I’m not worried about it.”

“I’m not worried about my son, Victor,” Nathalie said. “I’m worried about the fact that one of your actors just got suspended.”

“Oh,” Victor replied, trying to sound confident. “We’ll figure it out, we always do.”

Nathalie laughed a little. “Of course you will. The show must go on, right?”

If Victor had a nickel for every time he heard that phrase, he’d be rich enough to actually finance the spring play. 

“Of course, Mrs. Leroy.”

Nathalie just laughed. “Well, thank you for the call,  _ Mr. Nikiforov _ , and I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Victor replied.

Nathalie hung up.

Victor just stared at the wall.

According to the clock, it was six thirty. Dinner was long over. Hopefully, Chris had been able to get the cast doing something productive, maybe singing through some of the musical numbers.

Technically, there were two and a half hours left, which could be enough to run the whole show if they didn’t have painfully long transitions and a stand-in Hugo Peabody.

Damn, who was going to play Hugo Peabody?

And even if they did get through the show in two and a half hours, they’d still have notes at the end along with all the de-costuming and clean up for opening night. 

He’d have to settle for another run of act one and as much of act two as they could manage. They knew act two, right? Their earlier run had gone pretty well. 

Of course, that run had Mickey in it.

Victor sighed. He had to go back to the auditorium and face the cast. He had to start rehearsal again, had to deal with the fact that they opened in less than twenty-four hours and were nowhere near ready. He was the director, after all. The show would go on.

He took a deep breath as he opened the auditorium doors.

Thankfully, the cast wasn’t in chaos. They’d started the first act and gotten decently far, actually. If they kept it going, they might actually make it through the show by the end of the night.

Victor breathed a sigh of relief and walked down the aisle towards the stage. 

He didn’t see the figure sitting in the front row until it started talking. 

“Hey, welcome back. I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Giacometti said you wanted a full run, so I figured we’d start. I’ve been taking a few notes, just stuff I see. I don’t exactly see much, I’m not you. But I figured it was better than nothing. And there’s some food sitting by your bag if you want it.”

For a second, all Victor could do was stare.

It was  _ Yuuri _ .

Yuuri, who stepped in with the makeup, who tutored Yuri through math, who came in and painted set, organized props, read for Kim Macafee…

Of course, it was Yuuri. 

When was it not Yuuri?

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” the math teacher said hesitantly. “I can leave.”

“No, stay. This show needs as much help as it can get.”

Victor walked over to his bag and tucked away the athletic director’s paperwork. He grabbed the plate of food along with his notepad and a pen and took a seat in the front row next to Yuuri. 

“Thank you,” he said. “For the food, for starting rehearsal, the notes… just everything.”

Yuuri just shrugged. “You’re feeding me, figured I’d pull my weight.”

Victor shook his head. “You’ve gone far beyond pulling your weight. Don’t be surprised if Yuri starts failing math again around spring play season.”

“You know you could just ask,” Yuuri said, casually taking a few more notes. 

Victor felt his heart skip about three beats. 

“Alright then,” he said, trying to sound at least a little more confident than he actually felt. “Would you come back for the spring play? Be my assistant director?”

Yuuri just smiled. “Of course.”

It was a good thing the auditorium was dark because Victor could feel the his ridiculous smile stretching across his face.

“Oh, and on a completely unrelated subject, I had Emil do Hugo. I figured since he helped Mickey learn the lines in the first place, he’d know most of them. I asked Mr. Giacometti about vocal range and stuff, he said it should be fine. Emil’s been doing pretty well, but if you had something else in mind, you can definitely change it.”

Victor did not have anything else in mind. 

In fact, his thoughts on the matter had been almost completely blank. 

And Yuuri had once again solved his problems like some patron saint of high school theater. 

Like an  _ assistant director _ .

“No, no,” Victor finally managed to stammer. “I’m sure Emil’s great.”

And Emil had been great. The run-through actually went better than Victor had expected. The set changes had been a little rocky and there were a few times when Emil forgot Mickey’s lines. But for the most part, it was a good run. By the time everyone was decostumed, it was only eight forty, leaving plenty of time for notes.

Considering Victor’s lovely time spent with the athletic director had caused him to miss the beginning of the run, Yuuri started with his notes. He sat cross-legged on the stage and started to read from his notepad, making comments that were all pretty well-put and insightful. The cast listened intently and accepted his feedback, nodding and acknowledging everything he said. 

He didn’t look like a math teacher sitting on that stage. 

No, he looked like he belonged there, like a drama teacher, like an  _ assistant director _ .

Eventually, they made it through the beginning of the show and Victor started chiming in with his comments. Between the two of them, they hit almost everything, doubling up on more than a few points. They technically finished notes and dismissed the cast around nine ten, which was technically late but not late enough to be considered a problem. Everyone cleared out quickly, leaving Victor to lock up the auditorium and meet Yuri. 

“So, what’s your plan?” Yuri demanded as soon as Victor started the car. 

“I don’t know what else I can do at this point. I think Emil did pretty well today as Hugo, he’ll look over the script and be better tomorrow night. It won’t be a perfect opening show, but it won’t be terrible. Either way, there’s really nothing else I can do.”

Yuri scoffed. “I wasn’t asking about the fucking show, you moron. What’s your plan for Katsuki?”

“Oh,” Victor said. “Well, we established yesterday that he’s going to stay through Sunday’s show and today he agreed to come back for the spring play, so we should be hanging onto him for a while.”

“It’s like I’m talking to a fucking monkey,” Yuri snapped. “When are you asking him out?”

For the second time that night, Victor’s heart skipped about three beats. 

“What?”

“I mean the whole cast is wondering. We voted today on who was going to ask you about it. JJ probably would have won if he hadn’t have gotten his ass handed to him on stage, but apparently, people feel sorry for him or some shit and now I’m stuck holding the intervention.”

“Intervention? You’re making it sound like I’m some sort of alcoholic.”

“Don’t shove your terrible sense of humor into this, old man,” Yuri said. “You have three days to make a move unless you want to sit waiting until the spring play. But we all know you don’t. So just fucking do it.”

Victor sighed. “I don’t know him well enough. For all I know, he could be straight.”

Yuri scoffed. “He has more makeup skill than Giacometti, he’s sure as hell not straight.”

“I’ll figure it out, I have time.”

“You have three days. You’d better figure it out real fucking soon.”

And just like that, the conversation was over. Victor stared silently at the road, Yuri stared silently out the window. Eventually, they pulled into Nikolai’s driveway and the stage manager got out of the car. 

“I’m serious,” he said before closing the door. “Just get over yourself and do it.”

Victor sighed as he pulled out of the driveway. 

Like it was ever that easy. 

After a few more minutes of silent driving, he made it back to his empty apartment. He set his things on the counter and hung up his coat.

Three more days. 

What were the odds he’d figure things out in three days?

Three months, maybe. But three days?

He made a mental note to ask Chris for advice. 

Would Chris say anything useful? Probably not. But he had three days, it was worth a shot. If anything, Chris would probably give a killer pep talk, and Victor could really use the motivation. 

He opened up his bag and pulled out the stack of paperwork from the athletic director. He could also use a good distraction. He quickly found his favorite pen and went to work, starting with the first incident report on top of the pile. 

_ Date: Nov 9, 2017 _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back with chapter four! Sorry for the delay, I'm out of school now so things should be a little more consistent for the future. :) As always thanks for reading, you guys are the best!


	5. Friday

Victor was normally a morning person. He loved mornings, really, he did. But between Thursday's late-night paperwork and Nadia deciding to vacuum her apartment at three in the morning, Victor was considering Friday an exception.

Friday morning felt like hell.

At least he’d gotten the paperwork done. 

He might die of a caffeine overdose, but at least the athletic director wouldn’t be the one to kill him. No, the athletic director would not be getting the satisfaction.

Hell, if Victor overdosed in the building, the athletic director would probably have some paperwork of his own to file.

It could almost be considered karma.

If only he didn’t have a show to run.

Thankfully, Victor’s morning classes went relatively well and before he knew it, he was meeting Chris for lunch. They’d decided on Panera, one of the few restaurants close to the high school whose food was actually edible. They both ordered their usuals and took a small table next to the window.

“Victor, mon amie,” the band director said as he sipped his sugar-loaded iced tea. “Do you know what one of your darling freshmen asked me this morning?”

“I assume that's a rhetorical question?”

Chris sighed dramatically. “You remember Matt Nichols, right? The cute little redhead boy who plays Randall Macafee? Sweet kid, wonderful little actor. He's in my homeroom, actually. He walked up to me this morning, looking like his dog had just died, and told me he was  _ sorry _ .”

Victor's heart dropped. “Is he quitting the show? Chris, if he's quitting the show, I swear to God…”

Chris shook his head. “No, calm down. Nobody tells me anything serious about the show, and you know that.”

“I tell you all sorts of things about the show.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Not the point. Matt said he was sorry you broke up with me.”

Victor almost choked on his lunch. “ _ What? _ ”

“I know, the kid has no filter. Last week he asked me who my favorite Kardashian was. I’m used to it. But really, it was a very sincere apology.”

Victor sighed. “Do I even want to know what you told him?”

Chris laughed. “Well, obviously I told him that  _ I _ broke up with  _ you _ .”

“Chris.”

“Kidding. I thanked him for his concern and told him we weren’t dating.”

“I'm sorry,” Victor said, drumming his fingers on the table. “That was a bit out of line.”

Chris just shrugged. “I don’t mind. He's concerned about our relationship. Quite frankly, I would be too, if we were actually dating.”

Victor raised his eyebrows with a smile. “Shame you only date pretty boys.”

“Shame I'm not Yuuri Katsuki.”

Victor lost his smile. “And here I was, thinking we could have a nice lunch together without you nagging me about my love life.”

Chris chuckled a little. “I’ll stop nagging you about your love life when you actually get one. You've been single for ages, it’s sad, really. If you don't sleep with Katsuki soon, I'm going to have to take you clubbing again and slip something into your drink.”

“Did you just threaten to roofie me?”

Chris shrugged. “Only if you keep being a reclusive theater hermit.”

Despite himself, Victor actually laughed. “You literally just threatened to roofie me.”

“You need to live a little. You'd thank me afterward.”

“I really don't think I would.”

Chris raised his eyebrows. “When was the last time you got laid?”

Victor just glared

“My point exactly. Thankfully, there’s an easy solution to this problem,” Chris said with a smirk. “Just make your move on Katsuki and I’ll probably get off your back.”

"Probably?"

Chris rolled his eyes. “That depends on what type of move you make. Knowing you, you'd just ask him to maekup another show or something.”

“I asked him to assistant direct the spring play the other day.”

“Of course you did.”

“He said yes.”

Chris buried his head in his hands. “Victor, asking him to direct a play with you is not going to get you into his pants.”

“I never said I want to be in his pants, Christophe, I'm not you.”

Chris laughed. 

He laughed for at least three minutes. 

“Victor.  _ Victor _ . My darling silver-haired beauty. I've been watching you lust for four and a half days now, you  _ cannot _ try to pull that with me.”

“We haven't even been on a date yet,” Victor protested. “Maybe he hates Alan Menken or something.”

“It's Katsuki. He could listen to Drake and you'd sleep with him anyway.”

“I can't believe we're having this discussion.”

“We wouldn’t be if you’d stop waiting for the Great Comet of 1812 to come back on Broadway and just ask him out.”

“It’s been four days, that’s not very long.”

“It’s been long enough to promote him to assistant director.”

Victor shook his head. “I can't win with you, can I?”

Chris just laughed. “You win when you actually make a move. Now drive me back to the school before we’re late to fifth period.”

* * *

 

They made it back to campus with time to spare. The last few periods of the day ran without a hitch, and before he knew it, Victor was rushing out of the building towards the staff parking lot. 

Technically, call time was five tonight. That meant he'd have to be at the school around four thirty at the latest, four fifteen to be safe. Accounting for about half an hour of travel time both ways, he'd have about an hour at his apartment. 

He could work with an hour, couldn't he?

He drove back home as quickly as he could without going thirty over the speed limit and sprinted up the stairs to his apartment. Thankfully, he'd made a to-do list during sixth period, knowing full well that he'd probably forget something the minute he left the building. 

The first thing on that list was to change. 

The school district might have allowed jeans on Fridays, but the theater world most certainly did not. Victor pulled a suit from his closet and got dressed as quickly as he could without falling on his face. He touched up his hair in the bathroom mirror and made his way back into the kitchen for list item number two.

List item number two happened to be coffee.

That was easy. 

He could make coffee in his sleep.

Was that technically a sign of addiction?

Probably.

He'd go to rehab once the show was over.

Was rehab for coffee addicts a thing? 

Victor shook his head to himself and moved farther down the list. 

His third task was to gather the extra hairspray hanging around his apartment. There wasn't much and most of it was left over from last year’s show, but it would come in handy considering Leo's nightly struggles with gel. 

Fourth on the list was finding something to eat.

Victor decided he'd go through a drive-through.

He told himself it was to save time, but given he hadn't been grocery shopping since last Saturday, there weren’t many other options. 

Fifth on the list wasn't really a task at all, it was the tacky joke he'd heard in sixth period.

_ What do you get when you cross alcohol and classic literature? _

_ Tequila Mockingbird. _

Two hours later and it was still funny.

The sixth item on the list was not to forget the keys to the auditorium.

Victor took them out of his bag and tucked them into his coat pocket. 

There was no seventh bullet point. 

The list had been completed.

It was four ten.

Probably too late for a drive through. 

He grabbed an apple on his way out the door. It wasn't much, but it would hold him over until at least intermission. 

By the time he got to the school, it was four twenty-five. A few of the actors were already there, some had probably never left. Victor unlocked the door the green room and let the costuming madness begin. Thankfully, everything was still in place from the night before, and they moved relatively efficiently. Yuuri showed up just before five and started working on makeup, Victor helping with hair.

Eventually, the group was ready for act one and waiting in the choir room. Victor gave a quick pep talk, JJ led a prayer circle. 

Six forty-five arrived, and the house doors opened. 

Fifteen minutes later, Chris was starting the overture and Victor had taken his place in the front row. 

The lights came up.

Leo started his monologue.

_ I know that, sir, but think of the disastrous effect this might have on the morale of the American Teenager… _

And just like that, their show had begun.

It did not go well. 

Technically, it could have gone much much worse. 

But it did not go well. 

The set changes were decent, that much was alright. Otabek and Yuri had really gotten the stage management down to a science. They had an extra set of hands on a few of the changes, which definitely helped.

And Emil was managing. He was doing well considering he'd only gotten the part the night before, but still. He skipped a few lines, missed cues... For the most part, Sara was able to improvise her way out of it, but it was a little rocky. 

Eventually, they got to intermission, and Victor made his way out into the hallway. He bought ten dollars worth of brownies from the Leroys’ concession stand and started towards the green room.

Emil was the first he ran in to.

“Mr. Nikiforov, oh my  _ God _ ,” he gushed. “I’m so sorry, I did what I could. I’ll study the script more tonight, I promise. I’ll have Sara go over the One Boy choreography with me, we’ll figure it out. And I’ll work with JJ on the blocking for Honestly Sincere, tomorrow night will go better.”

“Of course it will be better. Take a deep breath. Eat a brownie.”

Victor held out one of the plastic-wrapped desserts. 

Emil just laughed. “How many of those do you have?”

“I had a ten in my wallet, I didn’t want change. Do you want the brownie or not?”

“Yeah, I’ll take the brownie.”

“Good,” Victor said as Emil took the snack. “And really, don’t be so hard on yourself. You did well, better than I was expecting, actually. You just got the part last night, you got to run the show once. For someone that new to it, you did pretty great.”

Emil shrugged. “I mean, Mr. Katsuki helped. He borrowed JJ’s script and went over it with me between scenes. We’d talk through as much as we could, sketch out what we remembered of the blocking. He did a lot.”

Victor nodded to himself. “You know, somehow I’m not surprised.”

Emil smiled. “Yeah, he’s been great. He was like whispering lines at me and stuff…”

Victor opened his mouth to reply but stopped when he saw Yuuri walk out of the green room. 

“You know what, Emil? Take all the brownies. Give them to the cast. Make sure Otabek gets one.”

He’d had hoped Emil would leave before Yuuri walked by and witnessed the ridiculous amount of dessert sitting in Victor’s arms.

He was not that lucky.

Instead, Yuuri walked by just in time to witness Victor handing Emil nineteen individually wrapped brownies.

Thankfully, Yuuri just laughed. 

“I had a ten in my wallet,” Victor said, weakly attempting to defend himself. “I didn’t want change. The money comes straight back to my department anyway.”

“I’m not judging you don’t worry. If anything, I’m a little impressed.”

Victor shook his head, laughing to himself. “Of all the things I could’ve done to impress you… Chris’ll never let this go.”

Yuuri shrugged. “Well, he doesn’t have to know. Emil can keep a secret, right?”

Emil just laughed. “From Mr. Giacometti? Absolutely not, I value my life.”

Victor sighed. “Well, it was worth a shot. Now give Mr. Katsuki a brownie and go on your merry way.”

The actor didn’t protest. 

“He’s a good kid,” Yuuri said as Emil walked back towards the green room. 

Victor smiled. “Yeah, he’s great. Although I heard you had a hand in that.”

“Not really. I helped with a few of the lines, sure. But most of it was all him.”

“Either way,” Victor said. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Yuuri said with a smile. “However, I’ll have to duck out a little early tonight. My roommate caught an early flight home for some reason, I should pick him up.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I don’t think so,” Yuuri said. “We’ll find out, I guess. I’ll be back tomorrow, though. Call is at noon?”

Victor nodded. “If you need anything, let me know.”

Yuuri smiled. “Of course. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to touch up Sara’s makeup. Congrats in advance on a wonderful opening night.”

Victor shook his head. “At this point, it’s more you than me. Good luck with your roommate, and I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Yuuri nodded and walked back towards the green room.

Victor watched him until he disappeared behind the door.

* * *

 

Yuuri was gone by the time the show ended, leaving Victor alone for notes. He didn’t have too much to say. He congratulated Emil, made a few notes about blocking and gave a few slightly pointed reminders about when Saturday’s call time was.

And he told the cast to thank Mr. Katsuki when they got the chance.

JJ’s hand shot into the air. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, cast,” he said with a mischievous smirk. “But I know we’ll thank Mr. Katsuki. The real question is how the director plans to thank Mr. Katsuki.”

Victor could hear Chris laughing from the orchestra pit.

“I’ll figure something out,” he said. “Now go home. Get some sleep. Come back at noon tomorrow.”

JJ winked at him on his way out.

“That kid’s going places,” Chris said. 

The director simply shook his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it to opening night! Thanks for reading, feel free to let me know what you think! We should be back in about a week with chapter six (and Phichit!). Thanks so much, guys, you're the best!


	6. Saturday

Lilia Baranovskaya didn’t necessarily love the Saturday morning performance, but she didn’t hate it either. 

“Well, Mr. Nikiforov,” she’d said curtly. “You’ve certainly made worse decisions over the past six years. I suppose we can consider this one a success.”

It was a bit of a backhanded compliment, but a compliment nonetheless. Considering she’d called Into the Woods the worst production to ever grace Jefferson High School’s stage, Victor would take what he could get. 

“Coming from you, that’s quite flattering.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she said, not smiling in the slightest. “Now as for the spring play, might I suggest Almost, Maine? You’d have quite the cast for it.”

Victor sighed. “If I had the money for royalties, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

Lilia’s glare was terrifying. 

Technically, Victor knew he’d done nothing wrong. It wasn’t  _ his _ decision to cut the budget. But with Lilia’s stern eyes staring through his soul, suddenly he felt very much at fault.

“I  _ told  _ him not to cut your budget,” she said sharply.

“The football team made state?”

Lilia rolled her eyes. “I know the football team made state, the whole damn city won’t shut up about it. But I know where he lives. And if I get your funding back, you’re doing Almost, Maine.”

Victor didn’t get the chance to argue. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to argue. But before he knew it, Lilia was gone and Chris had taken her place.

“So,” he said playfully. “How badly did we just get roasted?”

Victor shrugged. “She said we could consider it a success, so not badly at all. She questioned my decision-making ability, per usual, but didn’t slam the show.”

“Damn. Was she sober?”

“Sober enough to threaten the athletic director when she heard about the budget.”

“Who threatened the athletic director?” Yuuri asked as he approached. “And what happened to the budget?”

Chris laughed. “Lilia Baranovskaya. Resident Theatre Matron and Almighty English Goddess.”

Somehow, Yuuri still looked confused. 

“She ran the drama program for ages before she became department chair. I took over for her about six years ago. She still comes to all the shows and gives all sorts of… honest feedback. As for the budget…”

“The athletic director basically shredded it,” Chris filled in. 

“Pretty much.”

Yuuri just laughed. “I see how you work. You get me to assistant direct your play and  _ then _ tell me you’re completely broke.”

“Sorry?” Victor offered weakly. “We’re not completely broke if it makes you feel better. We could pay for a bit of set, some costuming. But as of now, royalties are out the window.”

“If Lilia successfully terrifies the athletic director though…”

“If Lilia successfully terrifies the athletic director without getting me fired, we’re probably doing Almost, Maine.”

Yuuri laughed. “I’m assuming that’s a play?”

Chris smiled. “Yes, darling, it’s a play. A nice, popular, well-respected play. Lilia will love picking it apart.”

“If she gets me a budget, I won’t complain.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Like you’d ever complain to Lilia. You practically worship the ground she walks on.”

“Did you  _ see _ her production of Les Mis, Christophe?”

Yuuri shook his head. “Consider me thoroughly confused. Isn’t there supposed to be pizza somewhere?”

“Yes, right. Food,” Victor said as he started to walk down the hallway. “Nikolai should be down in the cafeteria.  _ We _ should be down in the cafeteria.”

“If they ate all the pizza, V, you’re buying me dinner. And a beer.”

“I refuse to buy you alcohol before a performance. Didn’t we go over this last year?”

“Yes,” Chris said as they walked into the cafeteria. “But I figured it was worth a shot.” 

“Ha,” Yuuri said to himself. “Shot.”

Victor laughed.

Chris rolled his eyes. “I’m making puns now, apparently. If someone would do the honor of killing me slowly…”

“Ah, the adult supervision, present at last,” Nikolai said as they walked into the cafeteria. “The kids ate all the pepperoni, but I have sausage and cheese left.”

“Nikolai, you’re a dear,” Chris said. “Sausage will be fine.”

Yuuri took cheese and followed the band director to a table. Nikolai stopped Victor before he could follow. 

“So. My boy tells me you’re having some problems.”

Knowing Yuri, that could mean literally anything from a receding hairline to an existential crisis.

Victor wasn’t sure which option he preferred.

“Did he by chance tell you what those problems were?”

Nikolai laughed, nodding towards Yuuri with an all-too-familiar suggestive smile. “Of course. Though I have to say, I don’t really understand your hesitation.”

Victor sighed. “Technically, we’re just coworkers. I don’t really know him. He could be straight. Hell,  he could be married. He could have like seven kids and a minivan. I can’t just-”

“Vitya,” Nikolai interrupted. “Hand me your phone.”

“I don’t have his number.”

“I didn’t ask for his number, I asked for your phone.”

For some odd reason, Victor didn’t protest. He handed Nikolai his cell phone and waited, trying to make sense of the expressions on the old man’s face. When he finally got his phone back, there was a freshly-sent message on the screen.

**_This is Nikolai Plisetsky. Find out if cute math teacher is gay and I’ll give you extra pizza._ **

It was sent to Chris. 

“Nikolai I swear to God-”

“He just looked at his phone.”

“ _ No _ .”

“He’s laughing.”

Victor fought the urge to look. 

Instead, he locked eyes with Nikolai. “Don’t watch them, I swear to God. Look at me. Pretend you’re completely interested in what I’m saying. Pretend you have nothing to do with what’s about to happen. Laugh or something, God, I’m going to kill him...”

“Hey, Katsuki,” Chris’s voice said, intentionally louder than usual. “I have this friend, shocking, I know. But he’s a decent guy, I think you’d like him. And he’s taken a bit of a liking to you. So like hypothetically, if he were to ask you out or something, what would you say?”

Victor had never heard a cafeteria quiet that quickly.

He kept his eyes on Nikolai’s satisfied smirk, intentionally not looking at Chris or Yuuri or any of the cast members that were probably staring at the back of his head. 

“Well,” Yuuri replied. “I guess that depends. Is your friend pretty?”

Chris just laughed. “Oh, he’s the prettiest. Are you by chance familiar with Hedwig and the Angry Inch? He’s very John Cameron Mitchell.”

JJ got the reference first.

“Oh my God yes,” he whispered.

Emil was next.

“Didn’t Nikiforov-”

“ _ Yes. _ ”

“ _ No _ ,” Mila whispered.

“ _ Damn. _ ”

“The angry what?” Katuski asked, earning a laugh from Chris.

“Inch. It’s a musical, you’ll have to watch it sometime. I actually think I have an old community theater recording back in my basement somewhere. Lilia directed it, actually. And the lead actor didn't leave much to be desired if you get my drift.”

Victor choked.

“And rob him of John Cameron Mitchell? So  _ unfair _ , Mr. Giacometti. At least give him Neil Patrick Harris.”

“And miss the chance to expose our dear friend to the local theatre scene? That would be a crime in and of itself.”

“Well I mean Nikiforov’s like half of the local theatre scene anyway,” JJ interjected. “Katsuki’s not missing much.”

“Other than that fucking wig,” Yuri muttered under his breath.

“Such  _ language _ , Mr. Plisetsky,” Chris said. “Though I have to say I’d agree, that hair certainly was a highlight. I might have some pictures on my phone actually...”

Victor sighed. “...None of which are school appropriate, need I remind you.”

Chris just laughed. “You ruin all my fun.”

“You ruined my sanity, so I suppose we’re even.”

“ Touchè, mon amie,”  the band director said. “ Touchè.”

* * *

 

Thankfully, the rest of dinner went alright. Victor didn't strangle anyone, Chris didn't pull out any pictures, and Yuuri got back into the conversation once he actually understood what was going on. It had been nice, actually. They’d talked about pets. Chris had gushed about his cat and Victor had promised to let Yuuri meet Makkachin.

Eventually, they left the cafeteria and started getting ready for the evening show. The prep went relatively smoothly, with the exceptions of a few softly whispered side comments. 

"So I guess he's officially gay, huh?" JJ had asked as Victor touched up his hairstyle.

"Does this mean you're actually going to ask him out?" Yuri had snapped in passing.

"You officially don't have a reason not to," Otabek had added. 

Mila had winked at him at least three times and Sara kept sending him knowing smiles. 

He wanted to hate it, he really did. But at the same time, they were absolutely right. 

The Saturday evening show went better than the morning one. It hadn't been perfect, of course, but Emil was doing better each night and the microphones weren’t cutting out nearly as often. The cast did their bows after the final number, and the house lights came up. Victor quickly made his way out into the lobby, waiting for the slew of actors that would probably find him quickly. 

Instead, he was found by a Thai man he'd never seen before. 

"It's you, isn't it?" he demanded, a slightly terrifying expression on his face.

"Pardon?"

The stranger glared. "Look, I've been out of town for two weeks now. My little sister just got married. It was wonderful. But I got to come home two days early, do you know why?”

Victor just stared.

“Because apparently my idiot roommate has gotten himself invested in this show of yours, and I'm assuming you’re to blame."

"And your roommate is..."

The Thai man did not look impressed. "Yuuri. Yuuri Katsuki. You really can't miss him. Cute, Japanese, has a really nice ass when he doesn't insist on making horrible fashion choices."

"Oh," Victor said, the realization slowly dawning on him. "It's not really my fault, he came here to tutor a student and just ended up staying-"

"And agreeing to assistant direct a spring play."

"He told you about that?"

Yuuri's roommate rolled his eyes. "He told me  _ everything _ ."

Once again, Victor was at a loss for words.

Thankfully, Chris arrived in time to save him. 

"Making new friends, are we?" he said with a smile. "Christophe Giacometti, I teach band here. And you are?"

"Phichit Chulanont. Roommate to a certain Yuuri Katsuki whom I hear is quite popular in this department."

Chris laughed. "Did I just walk in on a shovel talk?"

Phichit, once again, looked very unimpressed. "I don't think he really needs one, considering he’s not actually doing anything. You know, usually I have the opposite problem, but no, not you. You just had to be the exception..."

“Well, hopefully, he won’t be the exception for much longer, I’ve only been nagging him all week…”

“Chris,” Victor whisper-snapped. “I’m trying to  _ avoid _ a shovel talk, remember?”

Finally, Phichit cracked a smile. “Oh, you’re getting a shovel talk, alright. This is just a shovel talk of a slightly different nature. Yuuri likes you. Like he really likes you. That doesn’t happen very often. So if you don’t take advantage of your opportunities and ask him out, I will literally kill you.”

“What?”

“Mon amie, do you even  _ know _ him?”

Phichit just laughed. “Everything’s on the internet if you know where to look, boys. I suggest you don’t give me a reason to.”

And just like that, he disappeared into the crowd.

“I don’t know if I should be scared or turned-on right now,” Chris muttered. “I don’t like it.”

“Ask him out,” Victor replied. “Distract him so he forgets to stalk me.”

“Were we just part of the same conversation?” Chris asked. “Because if I’m remembering correctly, there’s a very easy way to ensure he doesn’t stalk you.”

“I’m pretty sure he’ll stalk me anyway.”

“Not if you move fast enough. Ask him out after the show tomorrow. Take him to dinner. If it helps, you can give him some tacky excuse about paying him back for his efforts. There’s this classy Italian place a few blocks away, I could get you a reservation…”

He trailed off as Yuuri approached. 

“Victor! Chris!” the math teacher said with a smile. “You should meet my roommate! This is Phichit!”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Victor finally had the sense to start talking. 

“Oh. Hi! Um… Victor Nikiforov.”

“Christophe Giacometti, pleasure to meet you.”

“Of course, I’ve heard so much about you,” Phichit said eagerly. “And that hair… it’s absolutely lovely. Is it a natural color or do you get it dyed?”

“Um, natural?” Victor offered weakly, trying to determine if Yuuri had twin roommates or was living with Jekyll and Hyde.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Chris filled in. “I don’t know how he keeps it so shiny. You should see it under stage lights.”

“Oh, you act?”

Victor shrugged. “I’ve done a few community theater shows here and there, it really just depends on what I have time for.”

“He could’ve gone Broadway if he wanted to,” Chris said. “But no, somebody here had to find his calling or some shit like that.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “That’s a lie, first of all. And secondly, had I not ‘found my calling’ here, you’d still be working with Lilia.”

Chris shuddered.

Phichit just laughed. “Well if you’re that good, I’ll have to look you up sometime!”

“Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” Chris said before Victor had the chance to interject. “Community theater did it three years ago, it’s on youtube.”

“This again?” Yuuri said though Phichit didn’t seem to hear it. 

“That’s the one about drag queens, right?”

Chris laughed. “Not necessarily. But drag was involved.”

“You’ve done drag?” Phichit asked enthusiastically. “You’ll have to teach Yuuri. He could teach you to pole dance in return or something.”

Suddenly, Victor found he’d lost the ability to form words.

Chris, however, had no such problem. “Pole dance? I mean now that you mention it, I can see it. He definitely has the thighs for it…”

Phichit said something in return, but Victor wasn’t listening. 

No, Victor was staring at a Winter Formal poster trying to pretend he wasn’t thinking about Yuuri Katsuki and his apparent pole dancing talents. 

He really wasn’t succeeding.

After a few minutes, Chris and Phichit wandered off. Victor hadn’t heard what they were talking about, but he’d seen them leave out of the corner of his eye. 

He could see a lot of things out of the corner of his eye while staring at the Winter Formal Poster.

For example, he could see Yuuri’s legs, which looked absolutely stunning in the black slacks he was wearing. 

He could also see the slight blush creeping onto the math teacher’s face, which also looked absolutely stunning.

“You know, I should go…” Yuuri said, looking back towards the green room.

Despite his initial desire to protest, Victor didn’t.

“Yeah,” he said, tearing his eyes away from the Winter Formal poster. “I should really find Yuri at some point…”

“Good luck? I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Victor confirmed, smiling to himself Yuuri as he walked into the crowd.

Sure, he’d been threatened. And maybe a slightly murderous Thai man would be hiding out in his apartment when he got there. But somehow, between the threats and obviously pointed comments, Victor had come up with a plan.

He had a plan, he had tomorrow, and he’d make it work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And all of a sudden, there's only one chapter left.
> 
> Dang.
> 
> I don't know what I'm going to do with myself after this. XD
> 
> But anyways, said chapter should be up in about a week, though I start a second job this week so it might be a couple days late. No promises. 
> 
> As always, thank you guys so much for reading. I absolutely love your comments, you all make my day. <3


	7. Sunday

As far as Chris’s plans were concerned, he’d certainly had worse. At least this time there wasn’t alcohol involved. And besides, if things went wrong, nobody would be getting arrested. It had involved bribing a barista, sure. But that wasn’t technically illegal. 

Was it?

It didn’t matter. Mindy at Starbucks could keep a secret.

However, the cast of Bye Bye Birdie most certainly could not, and that was exactly what Chris was counting on. 

He’d arrived at the school ten minutes before call, gathering the cast onto the stage. He sat them down in a circle, earning a very pointed glare from Yuri Plisetsky. 

“This isn’t fucking elementary school,” the stage manager snapped.

“ _ Language, _ Mr. Plisetsky. The whole cast couldn’t fit in the green room anyway.”

“If we’re having a cast talk, shouldn’t Nikiforov be here?” JJ asked.

Chris shook his head. “No, mon amie, this talk will go much better without our darling director present.”

“He’s going to show up soon, you know that right?” Yuri snapped. “He literally has no life outside of this department.”

“And that, Mr. Plisetsky, is exactly what we’re trying to change.”

The whole cast stared at him blankly.

Correction.

The whole cast except JJ stared at him blankly.

JJ, on the other hand, seemed completely aware of what was going on. 

“Katsuki,” he said with a smile. “That’s what this is about, right?”

Chris nodded. “Exactly. Thank you.”

“Mr. Katsuki the math teacher?” one of the freshmen said. 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “No, the other Katsuki, you _ fucking _ -” 

Otabek shoved him before he could finish his statement.

“Thank you, Mr. Altin. And yes, Mr. Katsuki the math teacher. Now, our darling director has assured me he has a plan. However, the odds of him actually completing said plan are slim to none unless we give him a bit of a push.”

Mila laughed. “Us? Nag Nikiforov? We’d  _ never _ .”

“I’m still confused,” one of the freshmen said quietly.

Thankfully, Emil was first to reply.

“Well, you know Mr. Katsuki, right?” he asked gently. “And you obviously know Nikiforov, considering you’re in this production. And if you have eyes, you can pretty much see they’ve been crushing on each other all week.”

“But Nikiforov’s not-”

“No,” JJ interjected, standing up with dramatic flair. “This is ending now. It’s recently come to my attention that some of you freshmen seem to be either uneducated or in denial. As president of this fine organization, I take it as my solemn responsibility to fix that. So listen up, my dear innocent children. Nikiforov is gay. Very gay. The absolute gayest. And if any of you attempt to argue that point with me, I’ll kick you out of the drama club.”

Silence.

“You don’t have the authority to kick anyone out of the drama club,” Otabek muttered.

JJ sighed. “Why did I pick you as my secretary?”

“You didn’t. I was elected. You were also elected. Actually, I’m pretty sure we can impeach you.”

“Oh God, can you imagine,” Emil said. “‘Hey, Mr. Nikiforov, we want to impeach JJ, Why? Because he thinks you’re really gay.’”

“I’d pay to see his reaction to that.”

“April Fools Day?”

“I favor my life.”

“Nikiforov can’t kill spiders, he definitely can’t kill you.”

“Have you seen Nikiforov? He could kill a bitch with that jawline alone.”

“Well on that lovely note,” Chris said loudly, the cast falling silent. “We’re moving on. Nikiforov’s going to get here any minute. I want each and every one of you to nag him before intermission. One at a time. In a very non-suspicious manner. Don’t mention this discussion. Mr. Leroy, they’re all yours.”

JJ saluted and checked the time. “Alright, doors are open in an hour and forty minutes, let's kick some ass, people!”

“Fucking motivational,” Yuri muttered under his breath. 

* * *

 

Victor was barely two steps inside the school when it happened first. 

“Mr. Nikiforov,” Minami practically shouted. “You made it! Mr. Giacometti said you might be late but I was still worried and- Are those the flowers for the seniors tonight? I mean, I’m assuming so because they’re roses and you always do roses for the cast, it’s pretty much tradition… One of those bouquets is for Mr. Katuski, right? I mean, probably because he was such a big help and all but really. Is one of them _ for Mr. Katsuki? _ ”

* * *

 

When he walked into the green room, the first thing he heard was the Lion King soundtrack. Original Broadway Cast, of course. Which would have been fine, had Mila not locked eyes with him and started aggressively lip syncing Can You Feel The Love Tonight.

* * *

 

“Mr. Nikiforov, I need some advice,” Leo said as Victor worked on his hair. 

“Go ahead,” Victor replied. “I’m listening.”

“Well, so there’s this boy…”

“Is it Guang?”

Leo choked on his water. 

“No, it’s not Guang, what the hell? Just… listen.”

Victor sighed. “Alright. I’ll shut up. Keep talking.”

Leo took a deep breath. “Well, so I met him like a week ago, it’s a bit of a crazy story. But we met, and we’ve been stuck spending like a ton of time together this week because, you know, tech week, am I right?”

Leo took another drink of water. 

“I mean, I guess I’ve just realized that I kind of really like him. And that’s weird because I mean I don’t really date people, you know? But all of a sudden I really want to date him. And I don’t know what to do.”

Victor smiled. 

It was definitely Guang.

“Look, Leo,” he said. “You just have to go for it. The regret will kill you if you don’t. It’s intimidating, sure. Trust me. I know. But start small. Ask him to go to the cast party with you or something. Guang’s a great guy, he’ll say yes.”

* * *

 

Guang Hong was searching for one of Isabella’s dresses when a very flustered Leo de la Iglesia burst into the costume closet.

“Ji, oh my God, I messed up, I messed up...”

* * *

 

The first people to approach Victor at intermission were three of his freshmen. More specifically, they were Becca, Maggie, and Theo. They met him in the hallway, still in their act one costumes, looking a little nervous.

“You ask him,” Maggie muttered. 

Becca shook her head. 

“Ask me what?” Victor asked, trying to brace himself for any manner of theatre-related catastrophe.

For a minute, all three freshmen shared awkward eye contact. 

Theo was the first to snap. 

“What would it take to impeach JJ as drama club president?”

Victor struggled to find a response. 

“ _ Impeach _ ? Like Bill Clinton? Do I even want to know what happened?”

“Well, I mean Otabek was talking earlier-”

“Wait,  _ Otabek _ started this?”

“I mean technically JJ started it but-”

“You know what, no,” Victor said. “I refuse to discuss this until after the show’s over. Find me after tear down. Or better yet, find me in two weeks when I have some semblance of sanity. For now, just change your costumes or something. I’ll handle it.”

Theo and Maggie nodded and started back down the hallway. 

“Thanks, Mr. Nikiforov,” Becca said before following them. “And good luck with Mr. Katsuki.”

Victor just stared as she walked off towards the green room. 

_ Good luck with Mr. Katsuki. _

Not that he needed another reminder. 

No, at the moment the only thing he needed was JJ.

Thankfully, the lead actor wasn’t hard to find.

“Hey, Nikiforov,” he shouted as soon as he saw him. “How’s it going?”

Victor raised his eyebrows. “I’ve been told we need to have a talk.”

JJ just laughed. “Who told you that? Emil? I mean I was planning to give my pep talk later but if now’s a better time-”

“Why does Otabek want to impeach you?”

For a small second, JJ actually stopped talking.

Then he laughed again.

“He doesn’t  _ really _ want to impeach me. It was a joke. I made some comment about picking the wrong secretary, he pointed out we were all elected, brought up impeachment, it was pretty funny. The whole cast was laughing about it, I didn't think anyone actually took it seriously.”

“You were arguing with Otabek in front of the whole cast?”

JJ shrugged. “Well, there was a bit of an impromptu cast meeting earlier, it’s complicated. Long story. Ask Mr. Giacometti or something.” 

_ Ask Mr. Giacometti or something. _

Suddenly, everything made a bit more sense. 

“Of course it comes down to Mr. Giacometti…”

“I mean, don’t tell him I told you, especially if you’re gonna chew him out. Which you totally shouldn’t. His heart was in the right place. Oh, and speaking of hearts-”

“I’m stopping you there. Mr. Giacometti’s in the green room, yes?”

“I think so? Not sure. He might be in the pit. But Mr. Katsuki’s in the green room if you catch my drift…”

* * *

 

The first thing Victor heard when walking into the green room was Chris asking Yuuri if his apartment had a hot tub.

“No…” Yuuri said hesitantly. “It’s a pretty cheap apartment, there really isn’t space.”

“I believe the real question is why our darling pit director wants to know,” Victor said curtly, giving Chris the best death glare he could manage.

Chris didn’t care. “Well, Esteban had a hot tub,” he said. “I have to make sure I’m upgrading.”

It took Victor a minute to process, but when he did, the revelation hit him like a brick. 

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you.”

“What?” Yuuri asked, eyes darting between Victor’s glare and Chris’s irritating smirk. 

“He wants to date you,” Victor said, bitterness dripping off his voice. “Esteban was his ex, apparently he wants to make sure you have better assets or something.”

Yuuri looked mortified.

Chris just laughed. “Who,  _ me _ ? Pursue dear Mr. Katuski? Why, Victor, I’d never for obvious reasons, of course. His lovely roommate, however…”

“ _ Phichit? _ ”

“The man who literally threatened to stalk and murder me less than twenty four hours ago?”

Chris just shrugged. “Well, you deserved it.”

“Wait, Phichit threatened you?”

“Long story, Yuuri dear,” Chris said sweetly. “Ask me later. Right now I have an entr’acte to start.”

“You have five minutes, sit down,” Victor snapped.

“Ah, but tuning.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “Fine. Tune your orchestra. But I know what you did this morning, and I’m not happy about it. We’re talking later.”

Chris didn’t seem at all worried. If anything, he looked pleasantly amused. “Hopefully by the time later rolls around, we’ll have more exciting things to talk about.”

And with that, the pit director disappeared into the wings. 

“What happened?” Yuuri asked. 

Victor sighed. “It’s complicated. Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

“Alright, later,” Yuuri said. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Victor just smiled. “You know, I really hope you do.”

* * *

 

Before he knew it, Sunday’s show was over. The cast completed their bows, gesturing widely to the pit, the light booth, and Otabek’s favorite spot backstage. In the depths of the applause, Victor left his front-row seat and climbed up onto the stage. He could feel the lights blaring down on his face, the eyes of the audience staring up at him.

He’d never had much stage fright before, but somehow his heart was still beating out of his chest. 

Minami brought him the microphone and the flowers, a huge smile spread across his face.

The audience quieted, and Victor started to talk. 

“What a show, right?” he said, earning a bit more applause. “Thank you. Thank you for coming out, for supporting Jefferson Drama, and for not leaving before I finish my speech.”

A few parents chuckled at that. It was a nice validation, a little reassuring. And just like that, the nerves started to disappear. 

He launched into his speech, thanking all appropriate parties. He mentioned sponsors, thanked the drama parents, the pit, Lilia Baranovskaya, and of course, his favorite athletic director.

He handed roses to each of the seniors, saying something nice about each one. 

He gave a bouquet to Chris, thanking him once again for his wonderful contributions to the orchestra.

And then he was staring at the last bouquet in the bucket. 

He took a deep breath. 

“Now, usually this is the part where I spout off a motivational quote, thank you all again, and call it a night,” he said, earning a few more laughs. “But this year is a little different. You see, we’ve picked up a new member of the drama club family, and he deserves the recognition.”

He heard a murmur run through the cast but tried to ignore it. 

“It’s a bit of a funny story, really,” he said. “I had a cast member getting close to failing math. He got summoned to tutoring during tech week, and because I’m an extremely responsible adult I decided to go take it up with a certain math teacher upstairs. Let's just say it didn’t go as planned.”

Laughter. Laughter was good. 

“Long story short, I ended up with a new makeup artist, set painter, and just all-around support. He helped us through our drama, dealt with more than a few issues backstage, you probably saw him moving set throughout the performance tonight. He’s been a wonderful help, I honestly have no idea how we would’ve made it through this week without him. Thankfully, he’s agreed to assistant direct the spring play, so I won’t have to find out.”

Victor couldn’t see the cast’s surprise, but he could certainly hear it. 

He smiled and took one last deep breath. 

“So without further ado, my last thank you. To Mr. Yuuri Katsuki.”

The audience cheered as Yuuri walked out onto the stage, the cast clapping as well. He was blushing a little, waving shyly at the crowd as he made his way towards center stage. 

“You didn’t have to,” he said quietly as Victor held out the bouquet.

“Of course I did,” the director replied. 

Yuuri smiled and took the flowers, pulling Victor into a quick hug.

Victor was quite certain it was the greatest hug of his entire life.

* * *

 

Compared to past years, tear-down had gone quickly. They’d deconstructed the set in record time, and with Yuuri’s help, the green room hadn’t taken long either. Before he knew it, the last cast members were leaving and the auditorium was left deserted and empty, with the exception of Victor alone on the stage.

It was a bit surreal standing there, the lights turned down, the set pieces hiding back in the wings. He wasn’t quite sure how they’d made it, but by some miraculous stroke of luck they’d finished all four shows in one piece and tech week was over.

_ Over. _

Victor wasn’t quite sure how he felt about “over”.

At least in five months, they’d have the spring play.

And then graduation.

He definitely didn’t want to think about graduation.

Instead, he shifted his focus back to the spring play. 

They’d probably have to do something without royalties, considering the odds of Lilia winning over the athletic director were slim to none. Maybe they’d do Hamlet, maybe Midsummer’s. He’d have to ask Chris later. 

Correction. 

He’d have to ask Yuuri.

_ Yuuri. _

Victor definitely didn’t want to think about Yuuri.

His plan had been a remarkably simple one- leave a note in the bouquet, ask him to dinner sometime, give him a phone number. 

It would’ve gone wonderfully had Yuuri actually seen the note.

Maybe he’d seen it and left anyway.

Maybe he’d seen it and thrown it out. 

Maybe he’d seen it and decided to hold it over his head for blackmail.

Maybe he’d seen it and showed it to Chris, oh  _ God _ .

No, Victor was going to pretend he hadn't seen it. 

He’d see it later when he looked at the flowers closer. 

Maybe he’d call. 

Maybe he wouldn’t.

Maybe he’d never see it- the paper could’ve fallen out. It could’ve gotten lost, buried between flower stems or left on the green room floor. For all he knew, the paper was long gone and so was Yuuri.

Chris was going to kill him.

Correction.

Yuuri’s terrifying roommate was going to kill him. 

Correction.

Chris was going to hook up with Yuuri’s terrifying roommate and they’d kill him together.

However it happened, Victor was going to end up very dead in the near future.

Maybe Yuuri would come to the funeral.

A lone set of footsteps broke Victor out of his thoughts. They came from the green room, light and nimble, sound muffled by the curtains and the wall.

“We finished tear down,” Victor shouted. “You can go home.”

The footsteps did not go home.

In fact, the footsteps got closer.

The footsteps got closer and closer until Yuuri Katsuki was standing in the wings, a very familiar slip of paper between his fingers. 

Victor forgot how to breathe.

“I mean I  _ could _ go home,” Yuuri said. “But they opened a new Mexican place a few blocks from here that I’ve been meaning to try and I figured I’d ask for some company.”

Chris and Terrifying Roommate wouldn't have to kill him after all. 

No, Victor was going to have a heart attack and die on the Jefferson High School Stage.

Lilia Baranovskaya would be proud.

“I mean if you don’t want to, that’s fine, I’m sure you have a ton of stuff to get done with the show being over and all…”

“No, no,” Victor said, perhaps a little too quickly. “I’d love to. Just let me lock up first.”

“Of course,” Yuuri said with a smile. “Can’t have anyone breaking into the auditorium overnight.”

Victor laughed as they walked towards the doors. “The athletic director would do it out of spite, trust me.”

The tension disappeared as Yuuri laughed, the sound echoing through the empty hallways. Victor smiled to himself as he locked the auditorium doors, sending a quick text to Chris before leaving for dinner. 

With Yuuri. 

He could get used to leaving with Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! Sorry this chapter is like three years late guys, my work schedule has been a bit crazy.
> 
> But anyways! As always, thanks so much for reading this fic. And thanks to all of you who've been reading this fic. Thanks for every comment, kudos, every message... you guys make my day every time, I'm serious. Much love to you all. <3
> 
> If you want to talk, feel free to comment or come scream at me on Tumblr, either or. Thanks again for making it through this adventure with me, guys, you're the best!!


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